


Master and Commander

by shadowglove88



Series: Master And... Series [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, Aggression, Aggressive bottom, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Culturally Encouraged Sexual Deviance, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Arthur is being Scary AF, Ass Play, BAMF Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Backstory, Barbed Penis, Bath Sex, Bathtub Sex, Bathtubs, Battle, Beast Mode Sex, Begging, Biting, Blood Drinking, Bottom Arthur, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Bubble Bath, Butt Slapping, Childhood Memories, Claiming, Claiming sex, Cock Slapping, Cock Slut, Cock Tease, Cock Warming, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Confrontations, Continuous Arousal, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Creampie, Dark, Dark Arthur, Dark Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Dark Arts, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Dark Merlin, Darkness, Death Threats, Declarations Of Love, Demon Blood, Demon Claiming, Demon Mate, Demon Sex, Demon True Forms, Demon/Human Relationships, Demon/Human Sex, Demonic Anatomy, Demonic Cock, Desperate For Cock, Desperate To Be Fucked, Dick-tummy, Dirty Talk, Disturbing Themes, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Dominant Bottom, Dominant Merlin, Dreamwalking, Dubious Ethic, Dubious Morality, Eavesdropping, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Evil Plans, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Facing Your Fears, Final Battle, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Forced Bonding, Forced Masturbation, Forceful Penetration, Gay, Gay Breeding, Gay Concubine, Gay Kingdom, Gay Majority, Gay Sex, Gay Society, Good versus Evil, Huge Cock Small Hole, Hurts So Good, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Impregnation Kink, Inhuman Cock, Inner Child, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Jealous Arthur, Jealous Arthur Pendragon, Jealousy, Kissing, Large Cock, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Cock, Magic-Users, Magical Battle, Magical Boys, Magical Tattoos, Magical War, Making Love, Making Out, Making Up, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Masochistic Arthur, Master/Pet, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Mate claiming, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Mental Instability, Mental Link, Merthur - Freeform, Mild Blood, Mild Painplay, Mild S&M, Mind Manipulation, Mind Rape, Mindfuck, Multiple Orgasms, Neck Kissing, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, Nipples, No surprise Tauren Is An Asshole, Nursing Kink, Obedience, Older Man/Younger Man, Older Men/Younger Men, Older Merlin, Older Tauren, Ownership, Painful Sex, Partial Mind Control, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Penis Size, Perversion, Pet Names, Plot Twists, Possessive Arthur, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Praise Kink, Protective Arthur, Public Claiming, Public Display of Affection, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revisiting Past Events, Rivalry, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Roughness, Rutting, Saddle Breeding, Scratching, Seeding, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Lubrication, Self-Stretching, Self-Worth Issues, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex Addiction, Sex Magic, Sexual Content, Sexual Dominance, Sexual Submission, Sexual desperation, Shaking With Desire, Slap Slap Kiss, Slapping, Soul Bond, Submission, Submissive Arthur Pendragon, Succubi & Incubi, Suckling, Swordfighting, Swords & Sorcery, Talking While Fighting, Threats, Threats of Violence, Top Merlin, Topping from the Bottom, True Form Sex, True Forms, True Love, True Love's Kiss, True Mates, Twisted, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Undead, Unrealistic Sex, Unsafe Sex, Visions in dreams, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, War, Water Sex, Younger Arthur, belly bulge, desires for mpreg, dripping pre-cum, huge cock, monster cock, nipple sucking, one on one, verbal smackdown, what really happened, younger merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-08 13:06:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 70,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowglove88/pseuds/shadowglove88
Summary: The battle for Mercia, for Albion, has finally arrived.With the true identity of their enemy revealed, the battle promises to be a brutal, disturbing affair with the power to either set Merlin free, or break him entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter delves a bit into explaining some things about Tauren and his involvement in past events, so given everyone by this point already realizes just how much of a monster Tauren was, I do not have to say anything further to warn that there will be disturbing content.

Despite how late into the night it was, the military camp still had sounds of life within it as patrol shifts ended, blacksmiths tinkered, and groans and moans filled the night air. Honestly, Arthur was somewhat annoyed _and_ jealous at the sounds of pleasure, but he ignored them the best he could as he shifted better on his side, glancing up, and in this position, with his cheek against Merlin’s heart, he could see the bottom half of the cambion’s face in the darkness of their shared tent. It was tense, his lips in a grim line. The sight made Arthur queasy as he let out a sigh and shifted closer, slipping his leg over Merlin’s while his arm curled around his waist.

“You should try to sleep.” Merlin’s voice was soft in the darkness, clearly not feeling any ounce of sleep himself.

“Should we be here?” Arthur asked instead as he traced invisible designs on his lover’s naked chest. “While I might be angry with them the fae had a reason for trying to keep you from coming back here to the battle.”

“Are you doubting me, Arthur?” The voice was still soft yet held a steely edge to it.

Shivering, Arthur curled his hips slightly away from Merlin’s so the cambion would not feel the way his cock reacted to the sound of menace. Given everything that had happened since Bors had told Arthur about _who_ Camelot’s sorcerer was, he understood that Merlin was in a bit of shock, was trying to work things out in his own mind, and would most probably not appreciate the evidence of Arthur’s selfishness betrayed by his semi-hardness.

Shifting onto his side to face Arthur in the darkness, Merlin wrapped an arm around Arthur and slipped a leg between his, using his grip around the smaller body to pull Arthur roughly against him before pausing in shock, no doubt feeling exactly what Arthur had tried to hide seconds ago by moving away from him. Merlin’s touch turned gentler almost immediately as he caressed the small of Arthur’s back and leaned in to bury his face in the blonde’s hair. “I asked you a question, Arthur.”

Gulping a little louder than he wanted to admit, Arthur rested his forehead against Merlin’s neck and shook his head.

“Do you think less of me now?”

Shock jolted through Arthur at the question, causing him to look up at Merlin, yet when he could not see his face in this position he stretched as far as he could while being that tightly gripped and latched onto Merlin’s jaw punishingly with his teeth.

Merlin’s hand at his back began to knead his skin rewardingly, fingers digging deep, slightly painfully and yet ticklish at the same time, causing Arthur to make a little noise he would refuse to ever admit he’d made. Merlin massaged Arthur into relaxing his toothy grip on his jaw, and when the blonde rested his face into Merlin’s throat once more, the cambion sighed. “I hate that you know this about me.” He tightened his grip on Arthur’s body while hiding his face in his golden hair. “I never—I never wanted you to ever know—to know that Sophia betrayed me to the degree of revealing such a humiliating—-.”

“Merlin,” Arthur interrupted softly into that skin. “Not only did I _not_ think less of you once I was told what had happened to you, but I thought even more highly of you in that moment than I already had.”

The cambion snorted in derision. “You do not need to coddle me, Arthur, or stroke my ego. I know—.”

“You know _nothing_ ,” Arthur interrupted once more as he wrapped his own arm tighter around his beloved beast. “I was also very relieved when Sophia told me what she did, and let me be clear that you need to get over your anger towards her and Bors. She did not tell me everything, merely insinuated enough so that I could understand what had happened to you - which explained _so much_ to me about your behavior up until that point.” He let out a ragged breath. “If it were not for her telling me, counseling me, I would not have been able to get through to you in that village. If it were not for her I would have lost you.” He dug his nails deep into Merlin. “So you will forgive them because without them you and I would not be here, together, right now.”

“But—-.”

“ _Merlin_.” Arthur reached up and grabbed fistfuls of that hair, forcing Merlin’s head to tilt downwards so he could finally look into his eyes, finding them dark and haunted. The blonde tightened his grip and steeled his reserve as he stared up at his mate. “Sophia is _the only_ magical being who seems to understand that _you are mine_.” He tightened his grip even tighter, seeing in the flinch on Merlin’s face that it hurt him, but neither looked away from the other. “She and Bors might be cunning and conniving, but each and every time something related to your Dragonlord heritage has tried to take you away from me _they_ have been my sole line to you, _they_ have been the _only_ ones who not only acknowledged our bond, but have _actively_ assisted in maintaining it, strengthening it. Without her I would not have understood the pain that fueled your confounding self-doubt and deeply rooted self-hatred, and without him I would not have even known that you were still alive, much less realize the manner in which I could find you.”

Merlin stared down at Arthur in flinched silence.

“I understand why you feel betrayed,” Arthur assured him, truly understanding Merlin’s point of view, “but you _cannot_ remain angry with them. It is not only unfair to them, but it is unfair to _me_.” He tilted his head and stared up at his mate’s lips, stretching upwards to press teasing kisses to them. “You have druids and knights and fae who rush to your aid the second they believe you need of them, but most - if not _all -_ of them merely tolerate me and do not think I am worthy to be your mate. Other than you the only magical being I have who is on my side is Sophia. Would you deny me that support, my love?”

A snarl escaped Merlin’s lips as he began to shift further, until Arthur tumbled onto his back and pulled the cambion half on top of him. “While I understand your point, and give it merit, I must say that you are very unfair, and very hypocritical, dearheart,” Merlin whispered against the pulse in his neck. “You talk about forgiveness, but what about your lack of the same towards Daegal?”

A muscle jumped in Arthur’s cheek and he used that grip he still had on Merlin’s hair to tilt his head backwards so he could glare at him. If he was being quite honest, Arthur had never liked Daegal, and that was before he’d realized that Daegal and Merlin had had a _thing_ back in the day thanks to Mordred. Arthur had tried to accept the druid though, mostly because of Merlin’s friendship with him, yet that had all come crashing down when he’d realized that not only had Daegal been a part of the group who had forced Merlin to leave Arthur behind, but that he was not repentant of his ways. Daegal acknowledged that Arthur would be unhappy with him for what he had done, but it was more than clear that the halfling not only did _not_ feel remorse for his actions, but felt justified in them.

As far as Arthur was concerned, Daegal was one of the greatest sources of threats one could face, as with his angelic face and tiny body he not only appeared completely harmless, but his mannerisms effortlessly hid cunning and intelligence. Everyone had underestimated Daegal, had never suspected him, hell, Merlin had defended him quite a couple of times - never once realizing Daegal not only knew of the changelings and hybrids that had infected the castle - but was one himself - and apparently had been their defacto leader. “You know, Merlin, I am starting to wonder just how fond of him you truly are.”

There was slight pain on Merlin’s face from that unforgiving grip, but also smug pleasure as he twisted his head despite the pain of his hair being pulled, and began to nibble on the inside of Arthur’s wrist. “I am _very_ fond of him.” He then laughed when he was shoved off of Arthur violently, tumbling onto his back on the bedroll only to have Arthur follow him over, sitting on his lap and glaring down at him. Merlin tilted his head and stared up at Arthur in dark intrigue. “Is this the part where you chain and cage me?”

“I do not know, that completely depends on you,” Arthur admitted with a raised eyebrow, meeting that dark gaze with one of his own. “So tell me, Merlin, _is_ it?”

For a moment Merlin did not react, and then the corners of his lips twitched before curling in a pleased smile. “How nostalgic.” His hands rose to rub Arthur’s hips. “I remember the days before I knew you were the Crown Prince, how you _gloried_ in telling me that once Camelot won you would petition for me to be your slave, that you would keep me captive, chained, collared, and that I would only be able to use my magic when I pleased you _especially_.” He looked far too amused bringing up the past version of Arthur that the blonde was thoroughly annoyed with, who the current Arthur blamed for _much_ of how difficult things had been for him to get his stupid lover back. “I was beginning to wonder whether you truly _meant_ that.”

Blinking, Arthur stared down at Merlin and tried to glare, he really did, but his own lips were twitching in reluctant amusement. “We are starting a very serious quarrel, Merlin, _not_ engaging in foreplay.” 

“Oh?” Merlin rolled his hips up into Arthur while training his expression to an innocent one. “Are we quarreling, my love?”

“ _Yes_.” Arthur was doing his best to stay firm as he tried to scowl at his mate yet was very sure it was more of a pout than anything else. “You seem to be doubting the fact that, if you even think of the possibility of leaving me to go to another _room_ , much less abandoning me, especially for something as stupid as ‘my own good’, I will cage you somewhere deep and dark until you finally learn—.” He glared down incredulously at his infuriating mate. “ _Why_ are you _smiling_?”

Then again, that was a lie, Merlin wasn’t smiling. He was outright grinning. “Am I not allowed to smile?”

“Not when I am threatening you, no!” Arthur huffed, unable to believe that he had to explain that point to him. “At least have the _decency_ to not look so _happy_ at the fact that I am threatening you with all sorts of terrible punishments!”

“I apologize.” Merlin looked the farthest thing from contrite, in fact, he was grinning even brighter. “That was highly insensitive of me.” His grip tightened on Arthur’s hips as he pressed the blonde down against his cock, slowly manipulating the blonde’s hips backwards and forwards, his bright grin quickly growing dark. “Please, continue, I am listening intently. What else will you do to me?”

Arthur fought the groan that threatened to escape his lips as Merlin continued to move him so his core was trailing up and down the length of the cambion’s cock. “Yo-you are not taking me _seriously_ , Merlin!” Despite that snap, Arthur was incredibly proud of himself for somehow resisting the urge to play with his own nipples. “I am not being petulant or spoiled or pure talk in this matter—I _will_ punish you accordingly if you think you can get rid of me, that you can escape me.” He stared down into Merlin’s eyes, needing his mate to understand, to believe his words, because the next time this happened there would be no threats, no warnings. “And on that subject, I _will_ kill _anyone_ who even _remotely_ poses a threat to my relationship with you. No matter _who_ or _what_ they are.”

“Is that so?” Merlin asked in a drawled tone and with a raised eyebrow as he eyed Arthur in deep observation.

“ _Yes_.” Arthur grit his teeth as he glared down threateningly at him. He leaned down enough to press his palms into Merlin’s chest, digging his nails in deep.

Merlin tilted his head as he eyed him, expression blank. “You… you _mean_ that.” It wasn’t a question, it was a soft observation.

Steeling himself for the disapproval he knew was coming, Arthur glared down defiantly at his mate, and yet somehow he wasn’t prepared for their positions to be reversed once more, so rapidly he got disoriented, or for his face to be shoved into the bed roll seconds before his body was viciously breached to the hilt. Arthur closed his eyes and groaned at the feeling, not just of being filled, but of Merlin’s body heavily draped over his, trapping him on his knees and breathing roughly into his ear.

“ ** _Say it again_** ,” Merlin ordered deeply into his ear.

“ _Which part?_ ” Arthur whined as Merlin pressed his hips harder and harder into the blonde, and while this was not his true form’s cock, it still made Arthur gasp and shiver in undeniable pleasure.

The chuckle in his ear was darkness itself as Merlin began to circle his hips, this position allowing gravity to keep him lodged deep within and make each shift more pronounced. “Are we still quarreling, dearheart?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Arthur assured him despite the way be was spreading his thighs wantonly and gasping at the pleasure. His cheek was stinging slightly from the position and the weight over him, but he was definitely not about to complain about it. “We are.”

“I see.” Merlin sounded breathless as his arms wrapped around Arthur, his whole body weightresting heavily on the blonde as his used his hands to rub every inch of that golden chest from the blonde’s throat to right above his hardened cock. “Vent your frustrations at me, Arthur. Tell me what I am doing wrong. Tell me what I can do to make you happy. Tell me what I need to do for us to stop quarreling.”

Shifting himself slightly to bare that weight better, Arthur obeyed. “The way you love me _hurts_.”

Immediately Merlin stilled above him. “What?” The cambion’s voice was low, was angered, was incredibly dangerous-sounding.

“You love me, Merlin, there has never been any doubt in my mind about that - even when there was doubt in yours, but the way that you love me, the way you show your love for me - it _hurts_ me,” Arthur assured him with a resentful tone second’s before Merlin pressed one of his hands into the bedroll and used the other to grip Arthur’s neck in a clearly threatening move. “Be angry if you want, but it is the truth.”

Merlin’s grip tightened around Arthur’s throat uncomfortably, _almost_ hard enough to cut off his oxygen, yet not quite that hard. “I see. We truly _are_ quarreling.” His voice was emotionless as he said that. “You _are_ displeased with me.” He shifted his grip so the tips of his fingers dug into Arthur’s skin, the nails biting in painfully. “Explain to me how my endless love for you could possibly hurt you, when everything I do is done so with the grueling, determined, persistent need to do just the opposite.” His fingers dug in slightly deeper. “Unless you are saying that my love is _bad_ for you.”

Arthur was not sure what it said about him that instead of rightfully being scared of the clearly infuriated demon pinning him helplessly down and very obviously threatening to strangle him should he push too hard and displease him further, the blonde was starting to drip a long, steady trail of sticky delight from his cock’s slit. The version of Arthur before he’d met Merlin, the version of Arthur who _might_ have been somewhat of a bully who threw his position and power around a bit too heavy-handedly, would never be able to recognize the version of himself on his hands and knees, impaled by another man, one who was not human, one who was furious and threatening him even as he speared him with his cock. The Arthur from before would probably have been disgusted at the way this Arthur was ramrod hard and dripping like a woman at the obvious threat in that touch, that version of Arthur would never be able to understand this one’s parted lips and eyes which darkened in arousal.

That version of Arthur both infuriated and sickened the current one with nerves at the realization that had he not rebelled against his father and come to Mercia, had he not met Merlin under those exact circumstances, he would not be Consort. Had Arthur not done _all_ that he had done - had he not gone after Merlin time and time again - _someone else_ would now be under Merlin. Hell. It would have been Mordred or Daegal - most probably Daegal given the Mesmer had changed things between Merlin and Mordred somehow, at least from Mordred’s side. So yes. Had things not gone _exactly_ the way they had, _Daegal_ would be the one gripping the bedroll and groaning as he was taken by Merlin… And _that_ filled Arthur with bubbling, possessive rage.

“You want to know how your way of loving hurts me?” Arthur wanted to know, speaking around the hand wrapped threateningly around his throat. “While you might be more than willing to die for me, you are also more than willing to give me - _us_ \- up, to push me away, to allow our relationship to end, to shatter, without even the thought of a fight.” His voice broke for a second before strengthening once more with his ever-growing resentment towards this, resentment he’d managed to keep hidden deep within him for so long yet which was now gushing to the surface. “Had our positions been switched none of this would have happened. We would not be here right now. We are here, in this position, _because_ of the way you love me.”

While there was clear shivers of anger, Merlin’s thumb began to brush distractingly against Arthur’s pulse. “How exactly would you have done things different had you been me?” He sounded a mixture of furious and intrigued.

“Why does it even matter?” Arthur wanted to know darkly, gaze on the bedroll beneath them. “I have told you time and time again what I desire from you - what I need you to do for me - but you do not seem to pay attention or care. You continue to do the same things that hurt us, that endanger us, that—-.” He huffed. “No matter _what_ I say, it does not matter because you will not change.”

Merlin’s thumb pressed a little harder into his pulse. “Let us say that it does matter. Let us say I am intrigued and want to hear more. Let us say that it is in your best interest that you do as I have asked of you while I am asking it in such a very nice way.”

Gulping, Arthur dug his fingers into the bedroll. “If I I had been you, had our situations been reversed… Had I had magic while living in Camelot with you as my conquered sex slave, and I believed you to have connived with your Court Sorcerer to kill me and go back to your countryafter having betrayed me so vilely - I would have been furious as you were, I would have been murderous as you were, but I would have _never_ accepted the peace treaty when it was offered. I would have _destroyed_ Mercia, would have burnt it to the ground, and then I would have taken you back.”

That thumb paused for a second before returning to stroking Arthur’s pulse roughly. “The only reason I accepted the peace treaty was because it was not my decision to make, it was King Bayard’s. Otherwise, Little Prince, I would have _decimated_ your kingdom. I would have destroyed it. I would have razed it to the ground and made you watch it be destroyed knowing it was your fault. I wanted to kill you, Arthur, I planned on killing you, I _dreamed_ about killing you - sometimes it was the only thing that got me through the day - but no matter what I desired at that dark moment in my life I know I would not have been able to do it when the moment came. I would have made you suffer, I would have made you pay for your betrayal, but I would not be able to end your life. I would have used the lives of those you loved against you.” His voice was low, thoughtful, a little self-critical. “In the end you would have found yourself chained - naked - to my bed with no one and nothing to save you from staying there for the rest of your life.”

Nipples hardening, Arthur screwed his eyes shut and somehow managed to keep his whimper quiet, which was more control than he could claim over his cock, which was twitching erratically from the imagery. Not from the thought of Camelot’s destruction - definitely not - but from the idea of being chained to Merlin’s bed, being kept on the wolf-fur, kept where he desired most to be while his Master forcefully reminded him every day that that was his place in life. Honestly, now that he really thought of it, Arthur might talk a big talk about chaining and caging up Merlin, but it was the _blonde_ who most desperately wanted to be the one restrained and bound. The realization was shocking even to himself. Had all his talk been a subconscious way of getting Merlin to think of chains and collars? A way of provoking his Master into doing what Arthur had said he wished to do to Merlin —- _to Arthur_?

The spasm that speared through the blonde’s cock, culminating in an embarrassingly large gush of sticky need that pooled between his legs on the bedroll, argued that yes, that might have very well been the case.

“Continue airing your grievances,” Merlin ordered in an imperiously dark tone. “Tell me how else you would have acted different from me.”

“I—I would not have denied you if you wanted me, Merlin, especially not if we had been apart for so long. I could never deny our need for each other—but I would not have traded myself to Valiant or any other for you either,” Arthur whispered hoarsely, truthfully, still finding it hard to swallow that Merlin had done that for him. “I would have killed Valiant, and any other person who threatened you - just as I will somehow find a way to kill my uncle - because Tauren is _yours_ alone to kill for all he put you through - but should you for any reason be unable to kill him, I will _not_ hesitate.”

Merlin went stiff, clearly surprised by this, before he very obviously forced himself to relax. “Ignoring for now the latter part of your argument, Arthur, I was _under orders_ from Bayard not to harm any of his Court, much less his knights, and given my magical oath keeping me unable to disobey him that tied my hands in how I could handle the situation. I will not apologize for allowing Valiant to tup me when it was the only way I could protect—-.”

“I do not _need_ nor _want_ you to apologize!” Arthur snapped angrily, unable to get why Merlin could not understand him.

“Then what _do_ you want?” That was asked softly, curiously.

He closed his eyes, breathed in deeply. “Is it really so hard to understand what I want, what I am trying to say?”

“Yes, you are incredibly infuriating,” Merlin assured him in an oddly conversational way, seeming much less furious than he had been at the beginning of this conversation. “A part of me is now very much invested in this quarrel with you and is highly offended by everything you have said so far.”

“What about the other part?” Arthur asked softly, trembling as Merlin’s grip loosened around his neck.

“The other part of me?” Merlin buried his face in Arthur hair, breathing in his scent as that hand lowered itself down Arthur’s body to curl around his throbbing cock. “Finish venting and I will tell you.”

A heavy sigh escaped Arthur’s lips. “As I said, why—-!” Arthur’s eyes widened in shock as Merlin let go of his cock and slapped it, hard, causing a jolt of pain and shocking pleasure to race up Arthur’s spine. The blonde let out a guttural whine as he arched his back instinctively and hid his face in the bedroll, his hips trembling from the new sensation. It was probably due to his new position that he didn’t see the next slap coming, and he sobbed and undulated his hips desperately, caught between pleasure and pain, not sure whether he was trying to escape or begging for another—- _GODS BELOW_! Arthur mewled as another slap swung his cock slightly, and when he realized he was fucking himself desperately back into Merlin it was made abundantly clear to Arthur that he was begging for more.

Clearly caught off guard by Arthur’s unexpected reaction to what had obviously been intended as a punishment, Merlin groaned into his hair in throaty pleasure as Arthur’s hips did all the work, using their utter closeness and Merlin weight to fuck himself desperately on his mate’s cock. 

Magic raced up and stopped Arthur’s hips, forcing them still, tearing a sob of frustration from the blonde’s lips as he tried to fight it but ultimately was forced to concede defeat with a snarl. “ _Mer_ lin.”

“We are _quarreling_ ,” Merlin threw back at him breathily into his hair. “Now _continue_.”

Letting out a deeply frustrated sound, Arthur rubbed his face into the bedroll. “You _know_ what I am going to say, Merlin! I am angry that you not only believed that I would turn against your true form, but that you sent me away! You went to what you thought was your own death to give me a sword _I did not want_! You put up walls against me, tried to push me away, all for ‘my own good’!” He clutched his hands into the material beneath them. “This has happened so many times now it has become a pattern! And it hurts me! You keep on trying to deny me, trying to push me away, because of some new obstacle that you _immediately_ believe, and you think _for some reason_ that—-!” He stopped talking and took in a deep breath. “I nearly lost you, Merlin. Again. You nearly died. Again. I am _sick_ and _tired_ of it.” He closed his eyes tiredly. “And no matter how many times I order, I beg, for you to _stop doing this_ you keep on doing it! And I have to keep on searching for you! I keep on—!” He dug his fingers in as his voice broke, his heart hurting and his breathing harder and harder to do. “ _Why_ do you keep _doing_ this to me, Merlin?”

There was silence, and then Merlin embraced him tightly as his hips began to move, slipping languidly within hm. “I see.” He seemed to be saying that a lot lately, and Arthur doubted Merlin saw anything. “ _This_ is truly why we are quarreling. I am unintentionally making you feel insecure and uneasy.” He urged Arthur to lay down on his stomach, and the second Arthur did so he felt Merlin’s weight resting fully on him as well, covering his entire body, not only keeping Arthur pinned and unable to move, but driving that cock deeper and deeper into him, allowing his mate mastery over his body. 

If Arthur was being honest, he loved this feeling. While there was no greater pleasure than being speared by his mate in his true form, this was a very close second. The prince was completely trapped under Merlin, his body open for use, unable to fight back even if he had wanted to. Merlin nudged Arthur’s thighs and the blonde immediately parted them further, eyes rolling into his sockets when Merlin slipped in deeper in this new position.

“I keep trying to protect you, Arthur, and I keep hurting you in the process,” Merlin whispered tiredly into Arthur’s hair. “That is the last thing I have ever wanted. I honestly wonder sometimes why you love me despite everything that I put you through.”

Arthur did not like where this was going. It reminded him too much of the thoughts that had taken over Merlin’s mind when the spell had tried to reactivate itself. 

“Arthur—you keep discovering the worse parts of me - of my life - that I have been desperate to keep hidden from everyone but especially from you - and you somehow still love me and I do not know how to properly handle that,” the cambion admitted brokenly into his hair. “You do not understand what it is like to be me, to go from what I have, to _you_. All I want is to protect you, no matter how, because you are the most precious existence to me and I would happily die to let you live till a ripe old age - I love you, Arthur, and I am sorry that my way of loving you occasionally hurts you.” His voice broke. “It is not intentional, I just do not know how to show my love any other way.”

Closing his eyes, Arthur cursed himself for forgetting, once again, that despite the fact that Merlin was basically a sex demon who knew every sensual trick under the sun - that he was still very much a child when it came to actual emotions. Yes, Merlin was older, more cunning, more experienced, but in many ways he was more innocent, vulnerable, and Arthur knew that despite it all, Merlin’s actions - no matter how hurtful - were always done with the best of intentions. 

“I _know_ that,” Arthur finally whispered with a sigh. “Let me turn around, Merlin, I want to see your face.” There was clear hesitation before Merlin lifted off of him enough to slip out and allow Arthur to turn around. The second Arthur laid down on his back Merlin was on top of him again, inside of him again, hiding his face in Arthur’s neck. “M-Merlin…” Arthur wrapped his legs around his mate’s waist and gripped at his back. “I said I wanted to see your fa—!” A cry escaped his lips as the cock inside of him started to feel… _more_. Arthur whimpered and shifted his hips, confused sobs escaping him as he felt himself grow more and more full.

Was—-Was Merlin—-?

The blonde clawed at his mate and sobbed when he felt the indistinguishable feeling of ridges beginning to press against him as the enlarging cock continued its upwards and outwards growth.

Outside any sound that was not desperate, sobbed, rutting was completely gone. It was as if even those on patrol had given into the desire to tup. Arthur knew he should go out and investigate, that them being without patrol made them vulnerable, and yet when the first barb spiked outwards to dig into him he quickly found all thought leaving rapidly. 

Beyond their tent was the sound of dark laughter and choked sobs as no doubt the Swain’s plugs had been replaced by cocks. Whimpers and cries and mewls and gasps were easily overpowered by deep laughter, low growls, and lust-fueled hisses. This was not how things were supposed to go for them, but Arthur supposed that nothing ever went as planned for anyone anymore. 

And, to be honest, by the time that cock had finally shifted fully inside of him into its monstrous true form, and every single ridge became a barb that dug deeply into Arthur, the blonde didn’t give a damn. 

“You—you can _shift_ it now?” The blonde asked desperately as his body still shook, trying to grow accustomed to the forceful shift inside of him, which left his muscles deliciously sore and clutching around that cock with abandon, embracing it tightly even _if_ the barbs had not been spiked into him. “Yo-you can control it?”

Instead of answering, Merlin merely stayed there silently, face hidden in Arthur’s neck, body unmoving.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked softly in confusion. “Merlin, what is—?”

“I was told once that you were a bully before I met you,” Merlin declared softly into his ear, still refusing to move from where he lay on top of the golden youth. “I believed them then, and I believe them now.”

Blinking in surprise at this sudden attack, Arthur scrunched up his face, having remembered Merlin mentioning something about him being called pompous or something like that before, but he hadn’t realized that he’d also been called a bully. “I do not know what you are—-and _who_ exactly—-?”

“I do not promise that I will not unintentionally hurt you in the future Arthur, especially as if it means your safety I am willing to do anything, so I will beg your forgiveness each and every time I unintentionally hurt you, and will rely on you to bully me back to my senses, to remind me why I should be more like you my little dark one.” Merlin began to press open-mouthed kisses to Arthur’s neck. 

“It is not _bullying_ ,” Arthur tried to explain yet couldn’t get much more else because those barbs were digging in deeper only to soften almost to the point of slipping out of his innermost flesh, only to sharpen and elongate once more, over and over again, kneading his insides in a painful yet oddly relaxing way. 

Merlin suddenly tensed over Arthur, his breathing hard, heavy, voice broken when he whispered, apropos of nothing: “I am scared of seeing him again, and I hate that I am that weak.”

Immediately Arthur’s hazy arousal vanished and his arms encircled Merlin, holding him tightly, protectively, in his embrace. “You are not _weak_ , Merlin,” Arthur whispered. “The fact that you are willing to face Tauren despite the fact that what he did to you scarred you so horribly you still have nightmares which make you physically sick - despite the fact that you _know_ his magic is coursing inside of you like a curse hurting your dragon and making you weaker against him - the fact that _you know_ he is going to use all of that against you… Merlin… you are the bravest man I know.” The blonde tightened his grip around his cambion. “I do not want you to meet him again, I am scared of what that might do to you, but I know that that is something that you need to do.” He closed his eyes tightly. “I do not think you will be able to start healing until you do so. And that is why I will be here for you each step of the way.”

“Thank you.” Merlin nuzzled his face into Arthur’s neck and sighed tiredly. “This was a rough quarrel.”

A choked laugh escaped Arthur’s lips, unable to believe his lover sometimes. “It stopped being a quarrel half way through and became a _talk_ , our quarrel is not over yet, consider it postponed until _after_ you kill Tauren and I kill my uncle.”

Pouting against Arthur’s neck, Merlin pressed his own hips harder into Arthur, forcing those barbs to let go only to gain purchase higher, deeper, inside of Arthur before they hooked in once more, locking the lovers incredibly tightly to each other.

Arthur’s head fell back against the bedroll with a sob as he closed his eyes tightly.

“Goodnight, Arthur,” Merlin mumbled as he got more comfortable on top of the blonde.

“Ha ha, very funny Merlin,” Arthur intoned mockingly before he froze, eyes wide in horror when he realized Merlin was relaxing completely on top of him. “Merlin, you are not _actually_ planning on sleeping? Are you?” His body, having apparently been fully trained by now to know what to expect once those barbs hooked into him, expected, demanded, seed - seed it was not getting. It throbbed around the cock nestled inside, each throb pushing harder into the barbs, which sent countless jolts of pain and need inside of him, each pinprick promising warmth to gush out and fill him. “M-Merlin—do not _dare_ actually fall asleep like this!”

Merlin, for his part, was already breathing slower, clearly, somehow, managing to start to drift off into sleep already.

“Merlin? _Merlin? Merlin!_ ” 

And yet it would seem Merlin was using magic to keep Arthur’s words muted, because far too soon he was snoring.

Unable to believe what was happening to him, his body fully awake and feeling far too empty since it had absorbed all the seed it had been given in _that place_ , Arthur tried to wake Merlin up, tried to move, tried to do _anything_. In the end none of it was successful, and when he finally forced himself to close his eyes, he swore to himself that their quarrel - once unpostponed - would be _epic_.

…

…

…

“What do you _mean?”_ It took all of Tauren’s self control to keep his gaze on Balinor and not let his gaze stray to the object of his constant attention. Something was going on here, something was most obviously wrong, and he was very curious as to what exactly had happened. When he had heard of the Dragonlord heir who was embedded deep within the Mercian Court Tauren had been intrigued, and then, when the Dragonlord heir had _left_ the Mercian Court and been given lands by the king, Tauren had known it was in his best interest to approach the man, to make friends with him. As he had anticipated, becoming ‘best friends’ and close confidants with Balinor Dragonlord had been most advantageous, giving Tauren information he would never be able to get otherwise. It had come with some surprises as well, though, and this was most definitely one of them. 

“You should have seen him, Tauren,” Balinor whispered in utter defeated, looking both terrified and furious. “I was so scared - we have never taken that long to find him - and then when we finally did he was… he was covered in that darkness and stumbling around in disorientation. Who knows how long he was with it, how long—it was hours before I even realized he was missing, much less found him!” He collapsed into the seat and leaned forwards, gaze going towards the bed, where Merlin was sleeping, wrapped up in the blankets. “This wasn’t supposed to be possible, it is not supposed to happen for another couple of years, he should _not_ have been able to enter that place, much less—-.” Balinor covered his face with his hands and let out a stuttered breath. “Hunith will never forgive me once she finds out what I allowed to happen while he was with me.”

Honestly, Balinor was incredibly weak for a Dragonlord. He was easily pushed and prodded, and while his ability to be convinced, manipulated, usually worked in Tauren’s favor there was still many times in which he felt utter contempt for the man he had been forced to spend the last couple of years with. If it wasn’t for how powerful and how useful Balinor could be Tauren would have stopped associating with him many years ago. 

“You are saying that Dragonlords are tested and _claimed.”_ Tauren had never heard something like this before, despite his near obsessive studies on the Dragonlords, and it only reminded him of exactly why he put up with Balinor most of the time. The man was a fountain of useful information that he did not seem to realize should most definitely stay within the Dragonlord family alone.

“At a certain age, yes,” Balinor whispered as he ran his hand tiredly over his face. “Merlin is still too young. He should have at least three or four years until it would be his time. I do not understand how this has happened. How it was possible. His draconic magic is not even awoken yet so _how_ was this _possible_?”

“Explain to me exactly what this claiming is and what it does, _why_ it happens,” Tauren ordered before clearing his throat and trying to sound less brusque and more concerned. “Maybe if I understand it better I will be able to help somehow.”

“I do not know that you can,” Balinor admitted with a groan before he leaned harder back against the seat. “I have explained to you that the Dragonlord powers pass from father to son, correct?” He waited for Tauren to nod before continuing. “Once a Dragonlord boy reaches a certain age he is tested, claimed, by an ancestral spirit. It is a fancy way of saying that he will draw from, and be more powerful, in certain areas or situations. There have also emerged certain patterns depending on which element calls to you and claims you.” He motioned to himself. “Look at me for example, I am claimed by the element of earth. Overall that makes me one of the more physically strong of our kind, I can become energized just being around in nature, or taking from those who are a part of it or draw their magics from it like the fae and the nereid and the dryads and so forth and so on.”

Fascinated by this knowledge, Tauren sat down opposite Balinor and listened.

“We are usually the happier and more lucky of the Dragonlords, those who have better lives, live longer, the ones with more loving families and longer reigns,” Balinor continued with a deep exhale. “I had hoped Merlin would be one like me as well, for his own good.”

“But he was claimed by something else,” Tauren prompted, not having quite understood the emotional ramblings Balinor had let out earlier when he’d appeared at his house with Merlin while blubbering like some sort of idiot.

“By the one element that _no one_ wants to be claimed by,” Balinor whispered as he leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees. “Merlin was taken, was claimed, by the darkness.”

It was hard to keep the hopeful smile off of his face, to keep his expression blank, his voice neutral. “What does that mean, Balinor?”

“There are very few Dragonlords who have been unlucky enough to have been claimed by the darkness,” Balinor breathed out heavily, clearly still very much in denial about what had happened. “Every single one of them had a horrible existence.” He closed his eyes tightly and grabbed his hair. “They tend to have experienced tragedy, horror, pain and suffering, great loss,early on in life, because it is _that_  inner grief which calls to the darkness and which will feed the seed inside of them, will germinate it and make it blossom within them. They are lonely, solitary creatures, unable to love, to be loved, and yet _desperate_ for love, for a mate they will never truly have. They are, magically, the strongest of the Dragonlords, but they are also the weakest in many ways, and they are terrifyingly obsessive. Should they find something they consider theirs - much less _someone_ \- they _will_ have that thing or person, whether the person wishes it or not — historically it has always been _not_. They feed off of _every_ living thing, there is no balance in them, merely eternal consumption.” A haunted look appeared on Balinor’s face as his voice went soft in absolute horror. “A Dragonlord heir claimed by darkness is one to be feared above all else, because in them lies not only the potential, but the absolute _willingness_ , to destroy the world.”

Tauren found it hard to breathe, and he hated himself for betraying the way those words physically affected him, but thankfully, from the look Balinor was giving him, the man clearly thought he was terrified at this news. He leaned back in his chair and tried to reign in his composure before he did something that even the trusting idiot might begin to see through. It would not do for Balinor to start questioning him now. Already Tauren had been toeing the line, and he knew Balinor enough by now to know when to push, when to prod, when to manipulate subtly, and when to goad.

“This is my fault,” Balinor whispered in self-hatred as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I should have known… given what is in his veins… that he would attract the darkness. The boy is more Incubus than human, even if the demon has not awoken as yet clearly that would—-I should have thought—-I should not have been so careless! Thoughtless! I brought him to that place and just let him run free so I could tup with anything I came across! All I thought about was my own pleasure! I am to blame, and when Hunith discovers what I have done…” He let out a whimper. “She will hate me, she will leave me. She will _never_ forgive me for what I have done to our son.”

“Is there anything you can do?” Tauren asked, more out of curiosity as to the finality of this than out of true worry and concern.

“I do not know, I, I _hope_ …” Balinor let out a stuttered breath. “It was not an official, sanctioned claim. Merlin did not know of what was happening, there should be knowledge, there should be at least a modicum of choice involved. There is training that occurs before a claiming, a time of preparation that Merlin did not have. Maybe… maybe…” He groaned and leaned back hard once more. “But I do not understand _what_ could have called the darkness to Merlin so strongly that it would claim him this way. He does not have any of the indicators of a darkness dragon, has not gone through _anything_  traumatic which would have left scars on his soul and which could have triggered this. We have overprotected him, you better than anyone know this.” He frowned. “Unless, maybe, something happened to him that we were not aware of?”

Fighting down the panic that came at the questions showing on Balinor’s face, Tauren stood and moved to Balinor’s lap, lowering himself on it and rubbing his ass against that cock, feeling - almost immediately - any thoughts drifting from the man, like usual. “You need to calm down, Balinor, sometimes some things happen for no reason.” He smirked at the way that cock hardened rapidly against him, those eyes darkening as Balinor quickly lost himself to the lust as per usual. “What matters now is that Merlin is here safe and sound, where nothing else can happen to him.”

Balinor groaned, cupping Tauren’s ass and pulling him closer as he rubbed against him with a pitiful whine. “Can I do it today, Tauren?” He nearly begged as he thrusted against that clothed ass desperately. “Will you let me put it in you now?”

“Merlin’s right there,” Tauren chuckled even as he felt his pants being torn from him.

“I gave him that sleeping potion you do whenever he sleeps over here, he never wakes up for hours no matter _what_ happens once he takes that,” Balinor promised as he lined himself up with Tauren’s entrance. “Can I, Tauren? _Please_? I need it _so_ badly.”

Shifting to wrap his arms around Balinor’s neck in order to hide his annoyance, Tauren forced his soft voice and caring despite the frustration clearly written on his face. “Who am I to deny the King?” He rolled his eyes at Balinor's groan, and then steeled himself as he was breached, his body being used by the blubbering idiot groaning out his name, that he was a wonderful friend, and that Balinor would not be able to get through this without him. Tauren smirked at that, encouraging that line of thought, that blind dependency, while lying sweetly through his teeth, whispering words of encouragement.

“Hunith will leave me,” Balinor mourned brokenly as he moved desperately. “I cannot lose her, Tauren! But I will!”

Rolling his eyes once more and only managing to silence his sigh, Tauren forced a smile on his face as he pulled backwards to finally allow Balinor to see his face. “She does not have to know,” he declared as he clenched tightly against that rod and forced Balinor to look up at him in his face. “Just say that Merlin wants to spend more time in the orchards, that you are staying with him and beginning to explain things to him. That way she will not worry. You leave Merlin with me, I will look after him, and you spend your time there trying to find a way to stop what has happened to him.”

Balinor’s eyes widened in surprise. “We cannot be sure what this has done to him, he could awaken a danger to you.”

“I can handle him,” Tauren assured him, forcing his expression into tender determination, or at least what he supposed those emotions might look like. “You know I would do anything for you, Balinor.” He shifted his gaze away from Balinor and manipulated his expression into a split second of worry before he once more returned to that practiced look of caring as he returned his gaze to the gullible Dragonlord beneath him. Tauren forced out a wavering smile, doing his best to try to look like he was trying to be brave for him. “No matter how dangerous it might be for me.”

Staring up at him, Balinor surged forwards to wrap his arms tightly around Tauren, hiding his face in his chest. He then pulled away and looked up at him once more, eyes flashing gold in magic as he raised a glowing hand and placed it - palm open - against Tauren’s forehead.

Tauren’s eyes widened in fear, wondering whether he’d push too quickly, whether Balinor had finally seen through the person he portrayed to the one he truly was - only to suddenly realize that Balinor wasn’t searching his mind - but was _filling_ it with something. The sorcerer pushed down his instinctive fear of discovery and instead forced himself to try and pay attention to the countless information being downloaded into his brain. And then… _and then_ his having to put up with the horrifyingly weak of character, easily manipulated, and disgustingly trusting Dragonlord _was finally worth it_. He’d been growing tired and furious, thinking he’d had to lower himself to being taken by such a disappointing creature for nothing, and yet now, with the information being given him, he realized lowering himself like this and playing such a frustrating role had finally paid off.

The shock on his face was the first emotion he had not had to fake as he stared down at Balinor. “Y-you can _bind_ the dragon?”

Reaching up, Balinor nodded and sighed as he cupped Tauren’s cheek with his hand. “It cannot be done for too long a period without terrible consequences, it is a part of us, but it may be the only way to keep what the darkness has done from taking hold of Merlin’s dragon - the only way to keep the seed planted inside of him from germinating, from blossoming.” He sighed and rested his forehead against Tauren’s rapidly beating heart. “I hate the idea of doing something like that to my own son, but should you start to see the darkness changing him while I am gone you _must_ do it. It might be the only way to not only keep the darkness was taking him over and changing him - but to keep him in control until I can come back, hopefully with a way to stop it.”

“Control.” Tauren forced his features into blankness.

“To an extent, yes, the one who binds the dragon will be its master, and it can only be done by someone who the dragon trusts, which is why, other than me, you are the only one who can do this.” Balinor exhaled deeply, clearly hating having to resort to this. “You are the only one I could trust to tell this, Tauren. I could not trust anyone else with this knowledge. Merlin would be weak to whoever did this to him, would be tied to them, it is knowledge that should **never** be shared with anyone who is not a Dragonlord, but you—I trust you, and I know that you love Merlin just as fiercely as Hunith and I do. There is none other I could trust with him while I am amongst the orchards than you.”

His heart was racing, and Tauren couldn’t stop his trembling of excitement, yet from the way Balinor whispered for him to calm down, that it was okay, clearly the idiot thought Tauren was scared.

“Should you see the darkness start to take him, slip him some of your blood in his drink, and then perform the spell. This has always been only done by other Dragonlords, there needs to be something of you within him to work.” Balinor tightened his grip. “And if you have to resort to this, send word to me immediately, you know how to get through to me even when I am over there.” 

Tauren hugged Balinor tightly so the Dragonlord would not see the large, twisted smile that overtook his features. He moved his hips, rewarding the stupid animal and distracting him, managing, as always, to hide his disgust as he was soon filled with Balinor’s seed. The sorcerer used his body to keep the Dragonlord disoriented and distracted until the man finally left, promising Tauren that he would find a way to save Merlin before things got bad enough that the binding spell could be used.

Kissing Balinor goodbye, it was all Tauren could do to keep from shoving him away in impatience, to instead lean against the doorway and wave him goodbye with that practiced smile on his face. The second the magic took Balinor away, Tauren dropped all pretenses and raised his magical walls immediately as he turned and returned to that bedroom, where the only _truly_ worthy Dragonlord slept. 

While Tauren had approached Balinor in the hopes that he could be what he needed, the sorcerer had quickly realized Balinor was not. He was too weak in so many ways, weak for Hunith, weak for Bayard, weak for his family, weak for Mercia, weak for Camelot. Not only that, but Balinor did not have what it took. He did _not_. Tauren had been utterly disgusted and disappointed, had been about to end this pretense of a friendship, until Balinor had confessed his plans to give Hunith the child she could not have, and Tauren had known - _known -_ that if Balinor was somehow successful that a child of _that_ lineage - if it were a boy - would be exactly what he would need - what he could use.

And then Balinor had left to do his plan, and Tauren had further ingratiated himself with both of them by staying with Hunith, taking care of her in Balinor’s absence… and then Balinor had finally returned a little more than a year later… and with him he had a baby boy. A _son_. The Dragonlord power was passed down from father to son. _This_ was the weapon Tauren would need. And yet he had no interest in tending to babies so he’d let the baby grow, all the while staying there, using his position as Godfather - trusted and loved by both Balinor and Hunith - to subtly mold Merlin into what he would need. He had known, from the beginning, that this was a Dragonlord who could be of use, and as Merlin grew it only cemented itself. _This_ was a Dragonlord. _This_ was _his_ Dragonlord. Merlin listened to him more than he did his own father, Merlin acknowledged his opinion as greater, openly sought his approval - just as Tauren had groomed him to.

And now Balinor had given Tauren the final part that he had needed to finally move onto the next part of the plan which had been his sole reason for living for as long as he could remember.

Smile even more twisted, Tauren’s magic removed his boots and pants. He would not need blood, he had other ways of making sure a piece of him was inside of Merlin for the spell to work.

Like always, during the wonderful nights Merlin would be left with him, Tauren slipped into bed with his godson and entered him. Like always, the potion’s effects were lifted part-way through, waking the confused boy up. Like always, Tauren ignored Merlin's reactions to the situation he found himself in. Like aways, Tauren forced his lips on his Dragonlord heir as he did the rest of himself. Like always, hours later, only once Tauren was satisfied, his spell took root, forcing Merlin back asleep, removing the memory of the assault from him, or at least from his conscious mind. It would appear that a part of Merlin's subconscious must know, must remember, and it was  _this_ part of Merlin which had called out to the darkness so strongly it had claimed him years before it should have.

This time, though, Tauren did not tarry in bed and instead rose to prepare what would be needed for the binding spell. His magic cleaned Merlin’s body, removed any physical proof of the abuse, yet kept Tauren’s essence deep inside. As soon as Merlin awoke the next day, confused, sleepy, _trusting_ , the spell would be ready and he could begin the undertaking of binding a Dragonlord.

By this time tomorrow, he would have started the complicated magical process that would not only bind the Dragonlord Heir to him, but suppress the power of the inner dragon until Tauren had managed to completely break it.

…

…

…

Tauren stared at the missive that had appeared in fire writing in front of him.

**_Tauren_ **

**_I may have found a way to reverse what was done to Merlin, but it needs to be done soon before the damage is permanent. There might be a way of extracting the darkness and putting it back into the pit it should never have been removed from._ **

**_I am heading home to prepare, bring Merlin there as soon as you get this. We must work rapidly!_ **

**_I have also explained the situation to Hunith, as I will need her assistance in this endeavor. She is, of course, furious with me, but worried about Merlin, and grateful that you have taken care of Merlin, as she is without magic she would not have been able to protect or stop Merlin should the darkness take over - and while she is not happy about being kept in the dark she has understood. I worry for the state of my marriage once this is over and Merlin returned to who he should be, but for now I cannot let that distract me from what must be done._ **

**_Thank you for all of your help, my friend, I cannot explain how your support has made me strong enough to do this._ **

**_Yours_ **

**_Balinor_ **

A muscle jumped in Tauren’s cheek as he turned his back on the missive. Of _course_ Balinor would try and ruin _everything_ without even realizing it! How had he so quickly found a way to stop what was only natural? Tauren needed a couple of days - at least two more - before he could finish the binding process! He could _not_ \- _would_ not - allow Balinor to ruin his lifelong mission - to destroy _everything_ Tauren had waited so patiently for for all these years!

Balinor and Hunith had finally outlived their purpose.

Sending a quick note to Balinor telling him they would make their way to the Dragonlord home, Tauren began composing a different magical note.

**_Your Majesty_ **

**_I write to inform you regarding the wellbeing of the son you had with Balinor Dragonlord - Merlin._ **

**_While Balinor assures me that you are a heartless creature who does not care about your own spawn, that you cannot care about anything except carnal pleasure, yet as the boy’s mother I hope this is not true, because that boy needs of your intervention. He needs his mother, his true mother, to intervene on his behalf._ **

**_Balinor’s negligence has been common knowledge throughout the years, but never has it resulted in such obvious danger towards Merlin as it has now. He has initiated Merlin sooner than he should have, has taken him to the Endless Orchards, and continuously left him alone, to fend for himself, protect himself, while Balinor took pleasure in the creatures that you know dwell there. It is due to this negligence that Merlin was hurt, was targeted, by something terrible._ **

**_And what did Balinor do when he found out what the boy had gone through? He left Merlin in my care and returned to frolic with the beings of the Endless Orchards. He has so little regard for his son or his well-being that he… no… I will not say what he asked me to do._ **

**_Hunith has raised Merlin as her son but clearly she too has neglected him, and his predicament is her fault as well. She raised your son, she claimed him as hers, and she would not even come to see him while he was with me, and in such dire straits. Is that truly a mother? Is that who has been raising your child?_ **

**_Then again, perhaps Balinor is correct._ **

**_Perhaps you do not care about Merlin, never have, and you will not care that Balinor is telling me to bring the boy to him at his estate now so he may try to cover up his own horrible neglect by forcing the boy to undergo a ritual which will… which will leave him even more damaged than he already was due to his father’s neglect - all in an effort to hide what Balinor’s selfish actions have done to his son._ **

**_Once more, I do not know why I send you this missive, Balinor would know you better than anyone else, you are the true mother of his child, and what he has said of you proves that you are nothing but a demon, an emotionless, unfeeling monster who cannot help how decayed she is within. You obviously do not care that you had a child, otherwise you would have tried to reach out to him - to have a relationship with him - instead of allowing him to live all these years without even knowledge of you._ **

**_It is not as if Balinor has kept the lands given him by King Bayard of Mercia, so near the beautiful Fire Forest, nestled between the Raven Towers and the Jagged Mountains, a secret._ **

**_Many apologies for wasting your time, Your Highness. I was wrong in assuming you were anything then what Balinor has told us all time and time you are._ **

Tauren wondered whether he should add more detail, should make it easier for the Succubus Queen to find the lands that Balinor had been using strong magic to keep hidden from her and others. But then again she was not just any demon, she was the Queen of the Succubus, who had had the man she considered her mate escape into the night and disappear with her son without any hint of what he had had planned, much less a chance to give her time to say goodbye. To this day Balinor was not proud of his actions, but the Dragonlord had admitted that while they had agreed upon their coupling until a child was born, and that the child would be Hunith’s, he had doubted that the Succubus Queen would honor her promise given the way he had seen her change with her pregnancy. He had seen the look upon her face when she had first stared down into her son’s face, and while it hurt Balinor to do such a cruel thing to her, he had come for Hunith, who was the only one who he truly wished to please - the only one he would not survive without should she leave.

Balinor had been hiding his home, his land, his _son_ , from the Queen since he had run away with Merlin. It was why he had to tup so frequently, why he went into endless frenzies, because the force of keeping the amount of magic needed to protect Balinor’s lands - and which had extended to Tauren’s once the sorcerer bought the lands adjoining his - ate through his reserved energy quickly.It was why Tauren’s home was the only other Merlin was allowed to go to - only on his own land or his godfather’s would Merlin be hidden from his mother, who had been searching endlessly for him ever since the night he had been spirited away by his father.

Honestly, Tauren was risking Merlin with this plan, but the boy would no doubt recoil from the demoness once she found them. Tauren would do what he did best - he would manipulate everyone around him to have his way - and by the end of this day not only would Balinor and Hunith be dead, it would be at the hands of the Succubus Queen, which would leave Merlin with no other choice to but cling to Tauren, to turn to him, to _choose_ him, and once he did… once he _did…._ Merlin would be _his_.

Sending the missive to the Queen took quite a lot of effort on his part, not only because her realm was so heavily warded, but because he attached his own essence onto the document, making sure that even should the directions be too vague she would be able to use the essence to track him down there, bringing her to where Tauren needed her to be, and starting the chain of events that would no doubt culminate in his victory.

That smile twisted further as it widened to reveal teeth.

…

…

…

Eyes flying open, Arthur breathed heavily as he looked around him, heart racing in horror at what he’d — seen — had been dreaming? He reached for Merlin only to find him gone, and his terror grew harder only to realize that Merlin had slipped free from him during sleep and was now snoring with his back to Arthur. The blonde sat up and tried to breathe, staring down at Merlin while he tried to understand what exactly he’d seen, and why. Why would he dream of Tauren? Why would he dream from Tauren’s point of view?

Were the horrible events he’d seen been mere fabrications of Arthur’s troubled mind, or had that _actually_ happened? And if it was the latter - _why_ was Arthur able to see these traumatizing truths?

A scream pierced the night outside of the tent.

“Merlin! Wake up!” Arthur hissed as he stumbled to his feet and raced to the tent’s flap, throwing it open and stumbling out into the night… only to see Merlin there.

And yet, it wasn’t Merlin.

Not the Merlin from _now_.

Balinor Dragonlord’s body lay bloodied on the floor, it was a mutilated mess, parts of him seeming sawn clean off, and upon his face was the proof that he had died not only in agony, but in terror. His eyes were open wide, his expression twisted in what appeared to be an endless scream. His blood soaked into the earth all around him.

Hunith was near him, bruised and clearly hurt, yet alive despite the unnatural stillness on her face and the milky white over her eyes.

This younger version of Merlin was covered in blood that was not his own as he stared down at his parents in open horror, before he noticed movement and looked up at the one responsible, the one he and Tauren had returned in time to witness finishing her slaughter. 

She was terrifyingly beautiful, looked incredibly young, yet was not only clearly inhuman, but covered in his parents’ blood. Her cheekbones were well-defined, her face heart-shaped, her body curvaceous and her eyes nothing but endless black. Red lips were parted as she breathed heavily, raggedly, and when she took a step towards Merlin and outstretched her hand towards him her nails were tapered, were nearly claw-like.

Merlin recoiled immediately in terror as from her, covering his face and falling to his knees. “Go away _you monster_!” He screamed, the sound a mixture of horror and terror, of disgust and hatred. “GO AWAY! GO AWAY!”

He failed to notice the pain that took over her expression as she stared at him in growing panic. He failed to notice the way she looked around her at the burning house behind her, at the bloodied corpse, at the lifeless hexed, seeming to only now take in what she’d done before turning to look at him in mounting, frantic fear. Her breathing grew heavier, as if fear was giving way to a panic attack that she was desperately trying to contain.

“ _Emrys_ ,” she whispered, the sound hoarse in emotion. “ _Emrys, I_ _am so_ —-.”

“GO AWAY!” Merlin screamed as he shook his head. “GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!”

_“Emrys,_ ** _please_** _, I—!_ ” She was shaking visibly, looking all around her at the destruction, at the carnage, before turning those eyes on Merlin as she hurried nearer to him. “ _I was trying to do this peacefully — I only meant to talk, to get the truth out of him but he would not— he tried to—I snapped—I did not_ ** _mean_** _to—.”_

_“DO NOT TOUCH ME!”_ Merlin screamed and pulled away from her the second she had done just that. “YOU DISGUSTING MONSTER!” The boy stared at her in utter hatred. “I HATE YOU.” He was trembling with his fury. “I HATE YOU! DIE! YOU FILTHY DEMON! **I HOPE YOU DIE!** I HATE YOU! **I HATE YOU!** GO AWAY! GO AWAY! **GO AWAY**!”

Her expression crumbled as she looked away, hugging herself tightly before - with a blink - she was gone.

Merlin raced to Tauren and held him as he collapsed into his embrace, sobbing uncontrollably in his arms.

Tauren soothed the boy, whispering that everything would be alright, while, unbeknownst to his godson, the sorcerer stared at the destruction all around him and smiled.

Arthur, who had been unable to move since he’d come upon this situation, stared in mute horror. Was this — was _this_ what had happened? Were images such as this one - memories such as this - what had Merlin waking up so sick? His poor cambion! This—Arthur’s parents had been murdered as well but at least he had been older when that had happened, at least he had known the truth of their demise - the true betrayer!

Merlin, poor, broken, terrified, Merlin, on the other hand, had clung desperately, trustingly, onto his parents’ _true_ murderer without any idea of what the evil, _vile_ , sorcerer would use his vulnerability to force on him. He had no way of knowing that his horror and pain were only about to start.

“ ** _You son of a bitch_** ,” Arthur whispered softly, viciously, at Tauren’s back.

A chuckle escaped Tauren as he glanced back over his shoulder at Arthur. “Yes, my mother was not the nicest of women, but given the history of my family and what we have had to do to survive, it is understandable.” He turned to face Arthur as the young version of Merlin, as the dead bodies, as everything, vanished, leaving them alone in darkness. “I have to say, despite everything I did not think of you as more than an inconvenience, as something to use against Merlin when the time came, but I have to admit it…” a muscle jumped in his cheek despite the smile on his face. “You are _really_ starting to _piss me off_.”

It hit Arthur right then and there that this was not a mere dream. For some reason Tauren was there, in his mind at least. Why in the world would he choose now of all times to reach out when he had never been inclined to do so before?

And then he realized it: Tauren was unintentionally acknowledging Arthur as a threat for the very first time, which meant _something_ had happened very recently to change things for the sorcerer… and since the only thing majorly different was Merlin’s near death and their stint in the pit of darkness, Arthur figured that it had to be that.

“I thought, after I killed his king and freed him, I thought—-I _thought_ he would come after me, would destroy all between us, would come with blood in his eyes—-but he has _not_.” Tauren raised an eyebrow in displeasure. “To say I am disappointed is putting it _lightly_ , and every time I feel I might have worn him down, might have weakened him enough, might have tortured his broken little mind to the point that I need it to be—-drained him to the point of starvation—dragged him so low he would be at the very _brink_ of death… so incredibly vulnerable, so _ready_ for me… _you_ fuck things up.” Anger darkened those eyes despite the fact that Tauren’s smile was still very much in place. “Up until this point you were nothing more than a hole he was using, a hole that needed to be destroyed if I were to hold my end of the bargain with your uncle, but it wasn’t personal. You were no threat. You were amusing. You **are no longer** amusing. And that is dangerous for you.”

“What the _hell_ do you want, sorcerer?” Arthur finally asked, voice low, surprisingly not at all scared despite the fact that he was trapped in his own mind by this monster. “If you have approached me mentally like this, if you have bored me with your conversation instead of attacking me, _clearly_ you want something of me. Tell me what it is so that I may reject your offer and get back to planning your slow, painful death.”

Tauren stared at him in silence before throwing his head back and laughing. “I can see why he likes you! You are amusing! Spoiled. Full of yourself. Brattish. He probably sees a bit of his old self in you, and _that_ would explain his ridiculously strong need to protect you.” He wiped at a tear and shook his head, still chuckling. “I considered leaving you alive, you know, making you a bargaining chip. Your life for his surrender. I was even considering being magnanimous enough to let him keep you as his little pet, so long as I got to play with you as well. You are _so pretty_. But after things changed I realized I could not do that any longer. Merlin is weak for you. Utterly, disgustingly weak, and I _hate_ that. I did everything I have to drive out any weakness in him, to mold him into his full potential, and yet he is weaker for you than his father was for Hunith.” Anger flashed through his eyes. “ _Who_ do you think you _are_ , you little maggot, to try and claim ownership of his dragon and the darkness that I have done _so much_ to cultivate and grow within it?”

Arthur blinked in confusion, not quite sure what he was talking about.

“Do not play innocent with _me_ , boy,” Tauren hissed like a snake. “ _I_ bound that dragon in its shell, _I_ kept it trapped, kept it starving, isolated, ignored, furious, resentful - _I drove it insane_ \- it is _my_ magic that binds it, molds it, _claims_ it. **I** am its master, its owner, its **god**. It is useless, worthless, helpless without **me**.” He clenched his fists at his side. “So _who are_ ** _you_** to not only have the audacity to somehow _bind_ yourself to it, but _dare_ ** _command_** _it to do_ ** _your_** _bidding_?” His eyes flashed in fury. “How _dare_ some insignificant, spoiled, _child,_ someone who does not even have an ounce of magic in his veins, think he could _possibly_ be _worthy_ of that darkness? Of being its mate!?”

It took Arthur all of his self-control to keep his expression neutral when he realized what the _true_ reason for this confrontation was. Tauren had done everything he had to not only mold and control Merlin’s captive dragon, but to _command_ it, something he very clearly had been unable to do, and yet had been able to feel _Arthur_ do… on _multiple occasions_. **THAT** was why Merlin’s curse had been triggered - because Arthur had not only spoken to the dragon for the first time, but had gotten it to respond physically to him - and _now_ Tauren was here, confronting him, because not only had Arthur managed - with the dragon’s help - to tap into that power enough to get to Merlin’s side, but he’d also stopped whatever Tauren had designed that curse to do to Merlin, _and_ had come out of the dark pit alive and unhurt.

Tauren was here because Arthur was a threat, because, despite his magic inside of Merlin making him vulnerable, the sorcerer was not as assured of his domination, of his control, of his victory, as he had been the night he had murdered Bayard.

Arthur had confronted Daegal, had confronted the Elder Fae afterwards, and now, as he stared into Tauren’s furious, hate-filled eyes, he would confront _him_. “Are you done?”

Surprise and anger flittered over that face at his question.

“I am going to take that as a yes.” Arthur clenched his fists as he moved slowly, unworriedly, towards the sorcerer. “I do not know whether you meant to intimidate me or sicken me or scare me with all you showed me. I do not know whether you meant to brag about your powers of manipulation or to warn me that you have clearly been playing a very long game. You obviously have planned ahead, you somehow managed to survive Bayard’s mens attack when they discovered what you were doing to Merlin, faked your own death, and have been subtly manipulating Merlin using your magic in him, _and_ planning this war ever since your escape. Maybe some sick part of you wanted to show me what you did to Merlin as a way of claiming ownership over his body by prior claim. Clearly you are not one to be underestimated, but I already knew that.” He stopped at arm’s length from Tauren, staring up into his eyes with anger in his own blue orbs. “You are also right that I am not a being of magic like you and Merlin are, but like someone annoyingly wise once told me - _I do not_ ** _have_** _to be_. I am not _of magic_ but I am _of Merlin_. Not just of his sorcerer’s side, but of his demon, _and_ of his dragon.” He smiled. “Unlike _you_ I did not have to use magic against it, did not have to force it, unlike with _you_ his dragon _wants_ me.”

Tauren snarled. “You impertinent—!” He stormed towards Arthur, magically glowing hand held out towards Arthur. “I will teach you a lesson you will not—!”

Arthur reached out with his rune-covered arm and gripped Tauren’s, his runes glowing gold and green, shocking them both but he forced himself to continue on as if this was not surprising for him as well. “Unlike _you_ , Tauren, I do not _need_ to force a bond between myself and _any_ part of Merlin. Balinor might have told you that dragons aligned to darkness do not find mates, but _he_ found _me_. And unlike when he was with _you_ , Merlin does not _need_ to be ensorcelled to desire me.” He smirked fiercely, tightening his grip around that wrist painfully. “My mate desires me so desperately he physically hooks himself inside of me so that he cannot slip out even in sleep. _Every_ side of him loves me, wants me, desires me so fervently, and _wants to breed me_. And it **will** , even if Merlin does not think it possible I **know** it will finally get its way one day, and that we will no doubt enjoy our many attempts as he pours more of himself deep inside of me and shifts my body to better give life to his seed, to his children.” Arthur could see the fury, the anger, the confusion, on Tauren’s face, and realized more and more that he had more power in this confrontation than _either_ of them had initially believed possible. “You damaged him, you abused him, and you used him, Tauren. He will kill you for it, just as I will kill my uncle, and it will help give us both the closure we will need for the happy life we _will_ have together.” He smiled genuinely at that, knowing it was true with all of his heart. “And if I am feeling gracious enough when the time comes, I will let your last living memories be of watching him take me so you can see the difference between your abuse and his loving.”

“Y-you—-!” Tauren’s whole body was shaking in fury. 

“What King William of Mercia did to your ancestors was cruel and wrong, was _evil,_ ” Arthur told him truthfully, clearly shocking Tauren stiff by the fact that he knew about this. He smiled at the sorcerer sweetly. “But despite the fact that I am sorry for the undue pain he caused your ancestors, I _promise_ you that the House of Osgar will _fall_ with you and rise no more, will disappear and never be remembered.” He used his grip on Tauren’s wrist to pull him closer so he could whisper, softly, into his ear with a chuckle. “I will find a way to free my dark dragon, and when I do, I will stand back and watch him _rip you apart_.”

…

…

…

Arthur’s eyes flew open again, and for a moment he wondered whether this was still a dream, but he tried to move and realized he was not only pinned down under Merlin’s heavy weight, but that those barbs were still hooked deep within him, holding him in place and keeping him trapped with the curved tip of that monstrous cock kissing the entrance of Arthur’s innermost depths, teasing him with its presence.

His body knew Merlin’s true form, it relished in it, and he knew without a doubt that this was reality. Nothing could imitate Merlin’s true form or the torturous pleasure it gave him.

“Are you okay, my love?” Merlin asked in a sleepy tone. “Your heart is racing very rapidly.” He yawned into Arthur’s hair. “Am I too heavy? Do you want me to move?”

“Yes,” Arthur admitted, only to grip Merlin’s asscheeks when the cambion released him deep within, slipped out, and tried to move away - to roll over. “ _Not_ like _that_.”

There was a pause, and then Merlin nestled back on top of Arthur and rubbed that tip against his gaping entrance, which was quivering to be filled again. “I thought we were quarreling.” He teasingly pressed his tip in only to slip it back out the second Arthur’s body closed around it hungrily.

“I should not have said your way of loving me hurt me,” Arthur whispered as he wrapped his arms tightly around Merlin’s neck. “I understand why you do what you do, I understand that it is out of your need to protect me, even if from yourself, and I understand that instead of being angry or hurt, I need to understand _where_ this need of yours is coming from. I need to realize that no matter what you are doing, or how much it might anger or hurt my feelings, that you do it because you love me so much you do not even think twice about sacrificing yourself _in any way_ for me.” He rubbed his cheek against Merlin’s neck, groaning when his mate forced his monstrous form back deep inside of him, and the second he nestled deep within Arthur’s depths those ridges began to harden inside of the blonde in response to being back home. “Once peace has been restored I will just have to make it my duty to keep you so busy breeding me you won’t have time to do something foolish and get us separated ever again.”

“I never want to hurt you, Arthur,” Merlin groaned into his hair as he began thrusting. “If I did not have to feed, if I could be like any other man and not have to—I would _happily_ never be with another. I adore you. I treasure you. I am _so sorry_ that I have unintentionally hurt you so many times, especially when each and every time I have done so has been in an effort to keep that very same thing from happening! I—I am sorry for being annoyed and hurt when you expressed your frustrations, your feelings, I _want_ you to be able to tell me anything—I _want_ you to—.”

“ _I know_ ,” Arthur swore into Merlin’s neck as he nibbled on the skin, still surprised not to find it covered in demonic sigils given the demon’s cock buried deep inside of him. “Merlin, no matter how many times we quarrel - and we _will_ quarrel - we will _fight_ \- it does not matter. You are not going to lose me no matter how much you anger me, and I refuse to ever let you go so you are stuck with me, so—.”

Merlin chuckled into his hair. “You keep saying that, threatening me, as if you have not already proven that you will find me no matter where I go, that you will come to me, and that you will remind this foolish monster who owns him, who he belongs to.” He groaned in pleasure as his ridges alternated from rough and extended nubs to sucking kisses. “It is _I_ who has to truly worry should you leave me.” His voice lowered, grew darker, as suddenly he began to thrust so unexpectedly viciously inside of Arthur that he drove the breath right out of him. “Unlike _you_ I do not think I could—-if you truly fought me—-.” His thrusts grew punishing. “If you _dared_ leave me…”

Arthur could only manage to hold on as his body was rammed in with brutal force, causing rough ridges to scrape depths of him they had never quite managed to reach before and leaving him a blubbering, unconsolable mess of sobs and cries.

Merlin shifted his head to growl threateningly in Arthur’s ear as his every thrust savagely scraped and kissed and stimulated deep within. “Maybe _I_ should be the one threatening _you_ with chains, my love,” he hissed in Arthur’s ear. “Do not worry, they will be magical so they will be light and will not bruise you, but they will keep you trapped, keep you bound, and should you try to run away from me, try to escape, they will drag you back clawing and kicking to be reminded whose home you are.”

Shivers shuddered their way down Arthur’s back as his legs were shifted, knees pressed into his chest and held there by Merlin’s own weight, this position leaving him completely open to the cock spearing him ruthlessly. “Your magic likes me to-too much to do that to me,” Arthur found himself purposefully provoking his lover.

“Then I will make it _real_ chains,” Merlin promised immediately in response. “One chain. Fastened to a collar around your neck.”

“Wh-what will the other e-end be fastened to?”

“ _Me_ ,” Merlin responded.

Arthur’s body tightened instinctively around his mate at the very thought, and it was all he could do to keep from coming undone at the imagery. Yes. This confirmed it even to himself. Apparently he very subconsciously _had_ been feeding Merlin ideas regarding this from the very beginning. 

“I—I will be _king_ ,” Arthur growled, trying to make it sound angry and not lustful, trying to hide how close he was to losing himself to his rapidly coiling pleasure. “You would not _dare_ show me such disrespect as to—.”

“ _Is that so_?” Merlin’s voice alone was terrifyingly threatening. “Someone is getting a little too high and mighty, I see. The idea of being king is going to his head.”

_Yessss. Show me my place! Merlin—please—!_

“I’m going to have to make you wear your sex slave skirt, Arthur, at least for the first five or so years,” Merlin decided, as if there really was no other way around it. “I’m going to require unfettered access to your tight little hole whenever, wherever. I am going to have to spend those formative years showing you - _and Camelot_ \- that you may be its king but first and foremost you are _my bitch_.”

Arthur came, howling so loudly, so desperately, he visibly surprised Merlin still as Arthur’s body spasmed violently around Merlin’s cock, molding itself around those ridges and using them to augment the intensity of his release as jolts of pleasure throbbed from his core. The prince leaned back heavily on the bedroll, eyes closed, lips parted as he breathed raggedly, unable to catch his breath.

Merlin’s cock pulsated inside of him.

The boy stretched and groaned, clenching around that deeply buried root. He rolled his hips, trying to force more of his lover inside of him, to encourage him to move. Even though Arthur’s body was still rippling with the aftershocks of his own orgasm the pleasure felt hollow, only managed to strengthen his itch as his body mourned the lack of white, warm, life-filled essence deep inside its core.

“ _Arthur_?” Merlin’s voice was hoarse, was strained, he was clearly using all of his willpower to keep himself still inside of Arthur. He pushed up so that he was carrying most of his weight on his palms and this shift in position allowed him to look down into Arthur’s eyes, revealing the struggle there. “How strong do you feel?”

It took him a moment to understand the question, and then he grinned and let out a deep-throated purr. “Strong enough to take you all night, and tomorrow as well.” He took the opportunity to shift his legs and wrap them around his mate’s waist. “I have been _very_ resentful of those able to enjoy the Breeding Saddles.” He dug his heels into Merlin’s asscheeks beseechingly. “We have one more village before we reach the battlegrounds my love, take freely of me till then.” His hands trailed up and down Merlin’s chest seductively. “And then we will feed there so you are at your strongest when you come up against Tauren.” His eyes narrowed as he dug his nails in and dragged them downwards, leaving ugly red marks against Merlin’s skin and causing the cambion to rock his hips instinctively into his. “We will kill him, Merlin. He does not leave that battle alive. I do not care _how_ it is accomplished, but for everything he has done to you he will suffer unspeakable agony before his death - even if I have to physically do it _myself_.” Realizing he had dug his nails in enough to draw blood at some parts, Arthur reached up and licked at it with his tongue, swallowing the thick trails of red as he whispered darkly, possessively: “ _You are_ ** _mine_**.” He laid back down, Merlin’s blood on his lips, as he stared up at his cambion. “ **MINE.** ”

Merlin stared down at him, mouth open in ragged breaths and eyes… eyes so dark… the black of the pupils bled out, filling every inch in the pitch blackness.

Arthur smiled at the sight, holding his arms out to his lover. 

Breathing heavier with each breath, fangs beginning to appear behind his lips, Merlin was quickly coming undone above him. “Steel yourself, Arthur.”

Glorying in all that that warning always promised, Arthur embraced his mate when Merlin laid back on top of him and began to pound viciously inside of him. He shifted his hips and tightened his grip around Merlin’s waist while urgently turning his head and offering his neck, whimpering when Merlin did not notice fast enough. But then the sounds of his whined complains caught Merlin’s attention and in seconds he’d bitten in deep, both of them sobbing as he did so, their bodies trembling in pleasure.

Needing more — more! — Arthur concentrated on the magic inside of him and closed his eyes tightly, trying to order, trying to—and then the magic inside of him followed suit, forcing Arthur's insides to wrap impossibly tightly around Merlin’s cock, causing them both to sob out in shocked pleasure and pain. While the fit had always been tight due to Merlin’s monstrous length and girth, now every single inch of Arthur was wrapped around Merlin making his thrusts almost impossible and yet Merlin was slamming his hips harder and harder into Arthur and forcing the blonde’s body to open up and accept the invasion.

The rasping stimulation was leaving Arthur a speechless, wordless mess as those hardened ridges scraped all over, deep inside. He wanted to beg Merlin to make the ridges harder, to alternate hooking like he had before, but Arthur couldn’t get intelligible words out, only grunts and sobs, so he sought Merlin’s hand and brought those fingers to his eager mouth, sucking them in.

Merlin sobbed into Arthur’s neck as his cock and fingers were each being roughly squeezed and claimed by Arthur’s body. When he came it seemed a surprise to none more than himself as he tightened his bitten grip on Arthur’s neck and thrusted desperately before his cock hooked deep inside and his seed gushed out.

Arthur came at the feeling, and it was ten times more pleasurable than his previous orgasm had been. The only thing muffling his screams were Merlin’s fingers, which he sucked desperately while his body massaged Merlin of every last drop of seed. And then, once there was no more seed to be milked from that cock, Arthur clenched tightly around his mate, urging him for more.

And Merlin, ever the dutiful mate, happily obliged.


	2. Chapter 2

It would appear that during the night some pairings had been initiated, as unlike the day before there were some Swain who no longer rode in their own wagon, but who were fastened into the Breeding Saddles and had spent the whole morning being less than subtle about the cocks buried deep inside of them. These Swain leaned forwards in the uniquely built saddles, pressing their stomachs against the leather while the warrior riding behind them pinned them in place with his cock and his body, the horse’s gait rocking their hips into each other. Even without the ritual magic that should prepare their bodies for this level of penetration it was clear that making them use the butt plugs endlessly had done some of that preparation in and of itself.

Galvin was probably being one of the most vocal of the paired up Swain, then again, given the utterly disoriented look of pleasure in his eyes the boy probably didn’t even realize what a spectacle he was making of himself. Not that Sir Elyan seemed to mind, not in the least bit. The knight was one of the few still bothering to actually thrust of his own effort and not just allow the horse’s gait to do it for him. He also had Galvin sat slightly awkwardly on the saddle so he could tease the Swain’s cock while whispering endlessly into his ear. Whatever he was saying was only adding to Galvin’s foggy haze, was making him groan and sob and beg louder and louder.

Roarke, on the other hand, was blushing like a virgin despite the fact that he was very obviously not one. He had the saddle gripped to ground him as he rolled his hips back into Gwaine, who quite truthfully looked like it was all he could do to keep from eating the boy alive. The heir of Caerleon gripped Roarke’s chin and urged him to turn so he could kiss him deeply, causing Roarke to shiver and begin dancing _even more_ enthusiastically on that lap than he had been before.

Fionn - for his part - should probably be helping Bors with the Swain, but he had apparently forgotten all about his duties to anyone but Sir Cadman. 

**_Can we really trust these changelings?_ **

Merlin glanced over to where Mordred rode, doing a bad job at pretending to be ignorant of the fact that Lord Percival had taken to basically being one step behind him at all times. Lord Percival walked behind Mordred, rode behind Mordred, sat next to him during the meals around the camp, had pitched his tent next to Mordred’s, and was most _definitely_ the only reason no one had dared approach Mordred despite the fact that he was unattached. It would appear that, considering his more direct approach had failed, Lord Percival was employing the ‘slowly yet surely wear him down’ tactic.

_I believe so, yes_ , Merlin answered.

After he, Arthur and the changelings had met the Mercian and Caerleonian army after Arthur had just vanished in front of everyone’s eyes, the whole camp had had questions, but the ‘inner circle’ had had their own considering that unlike the others they’d thought Merlin dead. There had not been the privacy needed to answer every question, but they had explained enough. 

**What exactly happened with Arthur?** Confusion. Intrigue. **_He actually sought me out today, talked amiably, and even… he PATTED my shoulder, Emrys._** Clear and utter befuddlement. **_He has NEVER initiated communication OR contact with me our whole lives!_** Sudden concern. **_How sure are we that HE is not a changeling?_**

Snorting in amusement, Merlin glanced down at Arthur tenderly. While his mate _had_ gotten some enjoyment out of the Breeding Saddles he had soon fallen asleep, which was to be expected given their night together, and Merlin’s magic had not only rearranged the Breeding Saddle, but the blonde sleeping on it. Now the saddle curved in a way that allowed Merlin to lean back slightly with Arthur facing him, resting against the cambion with his cheek pressed into his chest. One of Merlin’s arms was wrapped around Arthur’s body, keeping him securely in place (as did the cock hooked deep inside of him), while the other held the reigns leisurely, guiding the horse. Unlike the others Arthur was still wearing his pants, which Merlin’s magic had torn at the seams so he could fill his lover without gifting anyone else with a sight of what only Merlin should.

_I am very sure he is not a changeling_.

An amused smile curved his lips at the thought as he pressed a kiss to the crown of Arthur’s head. He could feel eyes on him, and was a little taken aback by how much attention he and Arthur were receiving, but considering most of those eyes belonged to the knights of Camelot who had managed to escape the besieged kingdom out of loyalty to Arthur, he figured he should not be so surprised. Arthur and Merlin might have been together in the castle, but for much of the day they - very unlike Master and Consort - were apart, with Merlin working his magic while Arthur shuffled the many duties laid on him. This was probably the first time that many of those knights had actually been able to see Arthur and Merlin’s interactions for so long a period of time, and this _was_ their Crown Prince afterall.

A part of Merlin wondered whether Sir Leon had been telling him the truth when he’d said that most of Camelot were approving of the relationship - even if mostly because Arthur’s behavior since he’d been ‘rescued’ from Mercia had indicated that a more ‘suitable’ match would be impossible. Also, there was the fact that Camelot seemed unhealthily obsessed with pure lineage, _and_ given Arthur’s ‘Mercian inclinations’ _coupled_ with the fact that Camelot seemed to think Merlin wielded powers of godly levels, he supposed they would see it as the only way to make sure their ‘pure’ lineage remained thusly.

Honestly, Merlin didn’t know what to take more issue with, if he was being honest. They might be cheering him on right now but when they realized in the future just how wrong their assumptions regarding his power were they could become great enemies and obstacles between him and his mate. And Merlin was still incredibly worried and insecure about this situation if he was being honest. While Merlin wanted to defeat Camelot’s king and give the kingdom back to Arthur, a very large part of him honestly wanted Albion to just go up in flames already. 

Not for the first time since he had met Arthur had Merlin understood dragons more than ever. The idea of living in some magically warded cave somewhere with his treasure - Arthur - all to himself was incredibly appealing. There would be no war, no fights, no responsibilities. There would be nothing to interrupt, to get in the way, to be an obstacle. He could live with - for - his mate.

But the human part of Merlin, the one raised by Hunith, whispered that that would be incredibly wrong of him to do when all around them people needed their help. There was a war to fight. There were kingdoms to liberate. There was Camelot to re-build. There was… there was _always_ going to be something or someone that _needed_ their help, that needed their attention, that needed them.

A sigh of frustration escaped Merlin’s lips, and a part of him wondered, for the first time, whether Hunith had truly been the paragon of morals he’d always remembered her as. He felt immediately guilt for even thinking such a thing about the woman who had raised him like a son, but a voice was whispering in his ear, reminding him that Hunith had never told him the truth about who his mother was - had not seemed to mind that her husband had stolen Merlin away from the Succubus Queen. Of course, Balinor might have never told her the actual truth, but would Hunith had given Merlin back had she known? Merlin was not sure. Surely she must have questioned why Balinor never allowed Merlin to leave their land, and she must have gotten the truth out of him eventually, and yet she had continued living in isolation with her husband and son, leaving occasionally to mix with the outside world, always telling Merlin when he would ask to come with her that he was too young still, that he needed to take care of his father while she was gone.

Another sigh escaped Merlin’s lips, heavier and deeper than the previous, reverberating throughout his whole body.

A sleepy yawn escaped Arthur’s lips as he shifted as best as he could while hooked to get more comfortable before freezing, clearly only now realizing he was facing Merlin and not with his back to him as he had been when he’d fallen asleep. The young prince yawned once more and tilted his sleepy face upwards towards Merlin, rubbing at his eyes adorably. 

“What is all the sighing about?” Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s neck and rubbed his face endearingly into Merlin’s shirt, apparently completely oblivious to the surprised and intent looks his cutesy behavior was garnering from his own knights. “I thought you _wanted_ me to get so used to warming your cock that I could fall asleep.” He slipped his hands into Merlin’s hair, cupping the back of his head as he urged Merlin down lower so he could kiss him in that position, each kiss loud and sloppy and caused the barbs buried inside of Arthur to clamp down harder every time his lips touched Merlin’s. “W-was I wrong?”

Merlin did not answer, merely tightened his grip around Arthur’s body as he took control of the kiss, his tongue invading the prince’s mouth and claiming every inch of it. Arthur’s cock hardened rapidly against their bodies and every time Merlin’s tongue scraped its ownership Arthur’s cock throbbed in response.

Swallowing Arthur’s lusty groan, Merlin tore his lips from his mate’s and fought his own desire to fuck, he had already taken far too much and needed to allow Arthur to recuperate. It was why he ignored the way Arthur kept trying to pull him back down so they could continue that kiss, and instead urged Arthur’s cheek back against his heartbeat. 

“Get some sleep, Arthur,” Merlin whispered into his golden hair, which he pressed a kiss to. “We will soon be at the village, I will wake you when we get there.” Despite the fact that in this position he could not see Arthur’s face, Merlin could feel the pout even through the material of his shirt. He chuckled and rested his chin on the top of Arthur’s head, trying very hard to ignore the way Arthur’s knights continued to watch their interaction in obvious fascination, some even sending looks to each other as if asking if they had seen that as well. 

Arthur shifted to press his face against Merlin’s chest and very visibly took in deep whiffs of his scent while wriggling around as much as the spikes would allow him to. He then whimpered, groaned, _growled_ , and bit deep into Merlin’s chest through his shirt, only barely keeping from drawing blood.

Merlin threw his head back and groaned at the unexpected feeling. “Arthur, _behave_. You need to _re_ —-!” He closed his eyes tightly and bit down on his bottom lip when Arthur bit his chest again, just as hard, this time on a different spot, and then another, and another and another, until Arthur bit too hard and drew blood, which caused the outline of his teeth to seep through Merlin’s blue shirt, betraying to all what had just happened.

One of the many knights watching reached over to the one on the horse next to him and started to repeatedly tap his arm in shock, but the other one didn’t seem to notice since he was staring wide-eyed at Arthur and Merlin already.

Instead of apologizing in horror at what he had done, as clearly the knights watching had expected, Arthur lifted the shirt Merlin had not even realized he’d been working loose from the trousers, and slipped his head in under it, wrapping his lips against the bleeding bite mark, tongue and lips teasing the sore skin while lapping at his blood. Arthur’s hands dug into Merlin’s back deeply, the boy somehow moving his hips despite being hooked, breathing heavily as he finally staunched Merlin’s bleeding only to return to leaving sore, throbbing teeth marks all over his lover’s pale chest.

And then Arthur stopped moving and his lips could be felt brushing against Merlin’s bare chest, the very soft vibrations from indistinguishable words surprising.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, voice hoarse. “I cannot hear you.”

Slipping back from under Merlin’s shirt, some blood still on his lips, Arthur smiled up beguiling at Merlin. “I was talking to the demon and the dragon,” he explained very softly so only Merlin would hear as he made a sheepish expression. “They do not seem to like each other, so I was telling them they had to behave and work together - that they have to accept the other - because how _else_ can they give me what I truly desire?” His cock throbbed between them and he closed his eyes tightly while pressing his hand against his own stomach, which at this angle hid the demonic cock bulging deep within. “I believe I just gave them the right incentive to at least _try_.”

Head tilted in confusion, Merlin eyed his mate. “You… _talk…_ to the magics inside of me?” When Arthur nodded, as if this was no big deal, Merlin blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and reworded his instinctually rambled question in his mind before simply asking: “And they _respond_?”

“Not _verbally_ ,” Arthur admitted after a moment’s thought as his tongue chased away the remnants of blood on his lips. “I do not know how to explain it, but they react in certain ways, and I have started to slowly learn how to differentiate the different sensations, who they are coming from, and what they mean.” He must’ve seen something on Merlin’s face because his eyes narrowed. “I am not making this up. How _else_ do you think I was able to blink to where you were when you were…” The prince trailed designs over Merlin’s chest. “It was both of them working together that brought me to you, because I asked - I **_demanded_** \- it as my right as Consort and mate.”

To be quite honest, Merlin had not put as much question into Arthur’s presence in the Endless Orchards as he probably should have. Then again, Merlin was driven by instinct, and his instinct upon coming awake to find himself with his Consort had been to mate, and he had followed the demands of that instinct until exhaustion from what he had gone through had rendered him unconscious. After he had awoken, apparently many hours later, Arthur had already been up and about and had had quite a couple of confrontations and such if Bors could be believed. And while Merlin was still annoyed at Bors, he knew that Arthur had been right, and that despite it all he had to trust him, her, _them_.

After Merlin had awoken he’d found out about Tauren - and _that_ had driven every other thought out of his mind. He’d understood the Fae not wanting him to battle, but he would not hide, and when he had decided to return the changelings had returned with him. With everything that had gone on he had forgotten about Arthur’s appearance, and to now find out that Arthur had not been brought by one of the fae, or the changelings - had come apparently without their permission… Arthur _must_ have accessed Merlin’s draconic magic, it was the only way he could have gotten the ‘permission’ he would have needed, and coupled with the demonic, he would have been able to make the trip in seconds and…

Arthur could connect with Merlin’s magic. Arthur could communicate with Merlin’s magic. Arthur could _command_ Merlin’s magic.

The cambion blinked in utter amazement as he stared down at his awe-inspiring mate. “You are _terrifying_.”

Surprise and pleasure mixed on Arthur’s face as he grinned up at him. “That is the nicest thing you have ever told me.”

Snickering in amusement, Merlin shook his head at his mate and leaned down to rest his forehead against Arthur’s. “What exactly are you ‘truly desiring’ that you would ask of it to my magics but not to me myself?”

Arthur’s lips curled as his cock pulsated with his desire. “I will let you know once it has come true.”

“Or you could just ask it of _me_ ,” Merlin pressed, feeling a little silly for the slight jealousy surging inside of him. It wasn’t as if Arthur was going to someone _else_ for something he wanted or needed, but in a way it felt like that, and Merlin could not get over his displeasure at the thought. “You are _my_ mate first and foremost, they only get access to you through _me_ , so if you—-.”

Arthur chuckled in surprise. “Are you jealous of your own magics?”

“Not jealous,” Merlin denied wholeheartedly while lying through his teeth. “It is more like… without me there is no them, so if someone should be getting priority treatment or attention it should be _me_.”

“You _are_ jealous,” Arthur whispered in obvious awe and quite a bit of smugness. “Don’t you start too, Merlin! I am having enough trouble handling the jealousy of the dragon and the demon to have to fit yours in as well!” And yet despite his words he was laughing, clearly more than a little happy at Merlin’s childish words. “And honestly, I love them because they are aspects _of you_ , they **are** you, so while your jealousy is honestly adorable it is also quite _ridiculous_.”

“Ridiculous, you say?” Merlin pouted with pursed lips as his cock throbbed, visibly moving Arthur’s hips as it did so.

“ _Yes…_ ” Arthur gasped breathily, voice lowering as his grip tightened around Merlin tightly.

“ _Ridiculous_?” Merlin tried the word once more as he leaned forwards, forcing Arthur backwards, more than a little smug when the blonde immediately shifted in the saddle so as to lean backwards, trusting Merlin’s magic to fix the saddle so it now rose to prop his back up comfortably.

“ _Ridiculous…_ ” Arthur groaned as his body slid downwards in this new position, spearing him deeper on the monstrous cock inside of him, leaving him astride Merlin’s lap and clinging to the cambion with gasped cries. In this position every time the horse moved the momentum bounced Arthur up that huge root before gravity sent him falling back down on it again so he was completely impaled once more, the sound of his body repeatedly hitting Merlin’s was a series of loud slaps that came in time of each step.

“Are you _sure_ it is ridiculous?” Merlin wanted to know in an evil tone in the boy’s ear.

“ _Yessssssssssss_ ….!” Arthur’s eyes were wide, completely disoriented as his body rose and fell in short, rough, continuous bursts. 

Lips curling wickedly, Merlin tested the newfound semi-control he’d found over his shifting form ever since the pit of darkness, and, when Arthur was visibly lost in delirium and least expecting it, the cambion forced his ridges to shift inside of him and latch on, digging deep into his lover’s body.

Arthur’s eyes flew open as he yowled like a cat in heat, surprising (and scaring) quite a couple of his knights as he let out inhuman sounds of need and pleasure and torture. He clawed Merlin’s back, drawing him forwards to lean over Arthur, this new position further impaling him on that cock and caused the hooks to embed themself in deeper. His body was now unable to be bounced, and yet with each trot Arthur’s body tried to bounce, those hooks dug in deeper, and Arthur sobbed into Merlin’s chest in a very broken, tortured way.

It was quite obvious that Arthur’s knights were all worried and confused, clearly silently asking each other whether they should step in and stop whatever was happening. Their plight was so obvious on their faces it was almost comical. They wanted to intervene, wanted to protect their prince, but weren’t exactly sure how to do so without offending anyone. The knights kept listening intently, no doubt waiting for Arthur to ask for help, after which they would be more than permitted to do so.

And then Arthur went crazy, body trying to wriggle down deeper, hands clawing at Merlin’s back and ass, visibly trying to force the cambion deeper, rougher, inside of him. And then, when the barbs unhooked and his body rose with the bounce, he let out a pitiful whine seconds before he was impaled once more, and the spikes took advantage of gravity to hook even deeper inside of him, piercing through parts even tenderer than usual. 

Arthur came violently while on his back, with Merlin between his raised thighs, the cambion swallowing the sounds of his cries as the blonde’s whole body broke out into uncontrollable goosebumps. Even with Merlin’s cloak covering his back (as well as Arthur’s feet) it was more than obvious that those toes were curled, were shaking, in his pleasure.

The knights’ expressions turned from dark worry to shocked surprise, standing down immediately as they realized that despite the sounds of utter torture emerging from their prince’s lips, that he was more than enjoying whatever it was that Merlin was doing to him - he was loudly groaning and sobbing and begging Merlin for more, for seed. Relief and intrigue flittered over the mens’ faces as they relaxed in their own saddles, some exchanging amused and fascinated looks with each other as to this side of their prince that they would normally never see. 

“Love you,” Merlin whispered softly so only his Arthur could hear him.

“Love you too,” Arthur promised in a whimpered tone. 

The sound made Merlin’s smile turn deviant once more. “But you need my seed, do you not, my love? You’ve cum, your body tightened so incredibly around me as it massaged me wantonly, trying to entice me to spill deep inside of you and give you what your body craves so dearly, but I have denied you, have I not? I was strong and withstood the siren’s call of your warm, beckoning embrace.”

“ _Please_ ,” Arthur begged raggedly.

“But, mate, you think my desire to be your alpha, to be your lord and master, to be your _everything_ is _ridiculous_ ,” Merlin tutted softly as he brushed Arthur’s golden hair out of his beautiful, flushed face. “Mayhap you should ask the _dragon_ or the _demon_ to seed you instead.”

Face scrunched up in agony, Arthur glared up at him through golden eyelashes. Surprisingly enough the anger slipped from his face and was instead replaced by a smirk as Arthur leaned back harder against the magically-transformed saddle. Deft fingers lifted the hem of his own shirt and raised it to bare his chest, securing the material in his teeth so as to allow his hands the freedom to play with his own nipples. A groan escaped Arthur’s lips, muffled by the material scrunched in his mouth, as he brushed his thumbs against the rosy nubs, which were not only already hard, but clearly swollen. Arthur’s ass clenched around Merlin’s cock and his features twisted as he played with his own nipples, twisting and extending the already swollen mounds, almost seeming to be trying to milk them.

The knights just stared in slack-jawed shock at their prince’s wanton display. It was more than obvious to all that he was presenting himself like a bitch in heat to his alpha, and was very clearly trying to entice his master into taking a taste of him. The knights exchanged looks as Arthur rolled his hips teasingly, his saliva seeping into the material of the shirt muffling his groans as he stared up into Merlin’s eyes while teasing his ever-more swollen nipples. The front of his trousers were wet with the betrayal of his previous climax, his face and chest red in arousal, eyes never leaving Merlin’s as muffled sobs escaped his mouth. 

With every second that passed Merlin felt his resolve weakening, his gaze shifting from Arthur’s eyes to his rosy, swollen nipples, and then back again. His throat was dry and his mouth itched, his tongue pressed roughly against the back of his teeth. This was a battle of wills, and Merlin kept finding himself closer and closer to defeat. 

To be quite honest he did not even realized he _had lost_ until seconds after he’d surged forwards and wrapped his lips around one of those swollen pink mounds, sucking roughly as Arthur sobbed and arched up into him, offering himself up like a platter to be consumed. Merlin’s magic flew out, unhooking the saddle from their horse and causing it to levitate very slightly off of it, yet somehow tying it to the beast so that while it no longer felt the weight its movements were still tied to their advance.

Shifting to lay more fully on top of Arthur, Merlin’s hips began moving, thrusting himself inside of his sweet little hole while his lips suckled roughly at his wife’s teat. Arthur sobbed into the material stuffed into his mouth, his hold on Merlin urging him to suckle more, to suckle harder, to not ignore his other teat, to show them both equal favor. Arthur’s pleasure dripped from the place they were connected, coating Merlin with its sticky delight. It fascinated Merlin that while Arthur never tried to bring Merlin’s awareness to his own cock, that he flaunted his chest at every turn, tempting Merlin into paying those rosy buds extra attention.

His lips slipped free with a loud _POP_ which was accompanied by Arthur’s whimper and attempt to guide Merlin’s lips back. The cambion grinned with open depravity as he flattened his tongue against a nub and licked it roughly. 

“Look at my wife’s little teats,” he grumbled low in his throat, not missing the shudder that rippled down Arthur’s body at those words. “They are so _adorable_.” He latched his teeth onto that bud, twisting it between them, lips pulling at the pained pleasure that escaped Arthur at the abuse. “They taste _so delicious_.”

“ _Husssssband!_ ” Arthur whined, the term surprising all the knights watching.

“Wife, you almost taste of milk, _almost,_ and it is tantalizing,” Merlin admitted before wrapping his lips around that swollen nub and suckling roughly while moving inside of his boy, whispering against his chest. “Your taste is almost enough to make me believe that should I keep coming so relentless and deep inside of your sweet little womb you’ll one day become round with not just my seed.”

“ _Pleaseeeeee_!” Arthur was clearly going insane beneath him. “Suckle harder, husband! Suckle until I give you milk! When you taste it know that I will finally be ready for your seed! That your child will grow inside of your wife!”

Those words went straight to Merlin’s cock. Arthur not only wanted to have his child - he was _desperate_ for it. The thought still shocked Merlin to his core yet lit a fire in his loins that had him fucking up into Arthur harder and harder, trying to force himself deeper than ever, so that when his came his seed would gush straight into his mate’s sacred depths. He suckling grew fierce, he knew it must be painful, but Arthur kept begging him not to stop, to ‘suckle him ready’ and the thought honestly drove Merlin a little insane. It was as if Arthur were truly a bitch on the edge of entering into heat, and was prancing all around Merlin with his tail held high to reveal his aching entrance temptingly while begging Merlin to push him the last step required so he could finally enter into his breeding cycle.

Hell, that was _exactly_ what Arthur was doing! And Merlin was eagerly assisting, pounding into his mate’s amazingly tight, dripping, _quivering_ hole while suckling at his teat and torturing the other under his thumb.

The knights were all staring at each other with wide eyes. They had heard Arthur’s begs to be bred, could see him shifting in the saddle to present himself better for seeding, and could see on his flushed face the look of desperate desire. More than a few of the knights shared wide-eyed, hopeful looks, while some others were subtly pumping their fists in what seemed like, oddly enough, silent encouragements and/or cheering. 

Arthur continued to try and work his way down further, hooking his calves against Merlin’s hips and using that momentum to slide completely under Merlin. He lay on his back, his hips raised off of the saddle and held in place by the cock pounding deep inside of him. 

By now Merlin was far too gone to really notice anything other than the feeling of his mate’s womb beckoning him for seed, and the mound his lips were torturing even more swollen than it had been before. His ridges began to knead inside of Arthur, scraping, hooking, kissing and suckling, until the tightness around it quickly turned to a quivering mess that allowed the monstrous cock to slip in deeper and deeper with each breath until that tapered tip was breaching the sacred place. The ridges went to work harder, sharper, rougher, seeming to try and claw their way even deeper, to hook into Arthur and use their grip on his insides to force that cock even deeper inside of him.

The boy was sobbing as he visibly slammed himself harder onto Merlin, assisting that cock’s journey deeper into him, clearly feeling the new depths being breached and begging for even more. He reached between their bodies with both hands to desperately rub the cock bulging against his stomach, his hands molding as best they could around the bulge’s curve and adding to Merlin’s already overwhelmingly pleasurable state by stroking the cock into a quivering, pulsating mess which throbbed viciously and rocked his hips with each pulse as it got closer and closer to completion.

And then Merlin’s tip breached its farthest point and the barbs all hooked deep seconds before Merlin seeded his mate, suckling him through Arthur’s own climax, which only served to milk Merlin more fully of his seed and more expediently deposit it deep inside of the blonde.

Body shivering in aftershocks, Arthur rested heavily back against the magicked saddle, an expression of utter bliss and amazed contentment on his face which was plainly there for all to see. His eyes rolled in his sockets and he lay open to the cambion when Merlin began to move inside of him again. Merlin shifted over him, pressing him fully into the saddle, circling his hips while getting comfortable as he suckled adoringly on Arthur. The cambion made love to his boy, filling him over and over again with his seed, and the knights all around saw the way their prince looked more at more at peace, content, fulfilled, with each gush of life Merlin left inside of him.

Sometime during the lovemaking the knights formed a protective barrier around Arthur and Merlin with their own horses, giving the twosome a bit of privacy from other on-lookers so their prince could be bred by his ‘husband’. The longer the mating continued, the more shocked and impressed the knights became, and each time Merlin and Arthur found completion in each other only to continue moving against the other, desperate for more - the knights just shared nodded looks of awe.

Honestly, Merlin was not exactly sure how to take any of this, but he took his fill endlessly of his mate until suddenly he felt it and froze. The cambion tore his lips from the teats he’d sucked red and ignored Arthur’s whimper of displeasure as Merlin stared ahead of them, setting his attention on something other than Arthur. Normally this behavior would amuse Merlin, but he was distracted, he could feel it, could feel it so _strongly_ …

Merlin sat up immediately, pulling away from Arthur. 

Arthur whimpered and tried to pull him back down. “ _Don’t stop_.”

The knights frowned at Merlin, clearly biting back the desire to tell him his job clearly wasn’t finished given how needy their prince still was for more.

Ignoring them all, Merlin narrowed his eyes, inhaling, everything inside of him incredibly still, alert, and then he inhaled again and it hit him, _hard_. He brought his hands to his nose and mouth, trying to filter out the scent as he closed his eyes tightly, magicking his cloak around him protectively in fear that he would lose the battle and shift in front of everyone. It was taking him all in his power to keep in his human disguise as something inside of him that he wasn’t very familiar with - but which he believed might be his dragon - roared.

“ _Merlin_?” Arthur’s voice was worried now. “Merlin, _what’s wrong_?” He shifted, pushing himself up to halfway sit up enough to hug Merlin. “ _What is it_?” He whispered into Merlin’s ear. “What has the dragon in an upheaval?”

So Arthur really _could_ sense the magics within him and their reactions. Had Merlin not been in the middle of such a self-battle he would have been in awe, but as it was all he could do was shiver. “Something—-something is _wrong_.” He let go of his grasp over his own nose and wrapped his arms around Arthur tightly, burying his face in that golden hair and concentrating on Arthur’s scent, which was doing a much better job of filtering out - of masking - that overwhelming scent. “Up ahead—it _smells_.”

“Of what?” Arthur asked.

Merlin closed his eyes tightly. “ _Death_.”

* * *

The last village before the battleground was splayed in blood, not one hint of life to be seen or heard. Men, women, children, babies, animals - everything that had once lived in this village had been cut down brutally, each life taken in clearly the most torturous of ways possible. Blood covered everything, soaked into the ground, and Arthur himself could smell the metallic scent that wafted from it.

The army stared in utter horror at the desecration all around them. 

There, in the middle of the village, written in blood, were the words: **He will only feed the other. I will feed thee.**

His gaze swung to Merlin, the obvious recipient of the message, who looked sickened to the bone, pale and disgusted as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

“This was done not so long ago,” King Valiant decided as he rose from where he had been kneeling next to a child’s severed head. “It most probably happened very early in the morning, probably an hour or so before daybreak.”

That would mean that this had happened after Tauren and Arthur’s confrontation. 

Nausea filled Arthur as he gazed around at the destruction, realizing that after their mental showdown Tauren had come here and had taken his fury out on these innocents. This was _his_ fault… but he quickly shook his head, reminding himself that no, it wasn’t. This was Tauren’s fault. Tauren had been the one to choose to do this. Even if Arthur hadn’t stood up to him the sorcerer would’ve always done this, and the message to Merlin’s dragon proved it.

Lancelot’s comments about Merlin during battle suddenly made sense. The Head Knight had said something like to the degree of ‘whenever Merlin went into battle there were only ever two outcomes, either there was an orgy, or a massacre’. Whenever Merlin went into battle, and his bloodlust took over, one of his sides would feed. Tauren, who obviously already knew this, had massacred this village with the sole intention of winning points with the dragon, of proving himself a better match.

Arthur pressed his hand against his solar plexus, faintly able to feel the dragon pacing in its shell. It was hungry, it was tempted, it wanted to feed, but it also felt Merlin’s sickened disgust and was confused. It did not understand good or bad, right or wrong, it understood hunger, and it was hungry, it wanted to feed, and it was in pain as it paced deep inside of that shell which was growing ever too small for it by the day.

“We will do the ritual here,” King Valiant declared, face grave. “We will not let these deaths be in vain. We will use the pain he inflicted on these innocents to feed the spell which will be his undoing.”

Was he honestly going to do this? Going to—? Yes. Valiant’s face was determined, as were the faces of the Mercians. The Escetians, Caerleons, and those from Camelot looked less sure of this plan, yet they remained silent. 

“I do not want to do that,” Merlin whispered as he stared around him at the chaos. “There is something—.”

“Lord Merlin, you will do this,” Valiant informed Merlin as he reached down and picked up a man’s head by his hair, lifting and turning that face to Merlin accusingly. “Look into these eyes and see the pain that—.”

It was almost as if, by touching the body, Valiant had triggered something as all around them the bodies of the dead began to jerkily come back to life in horrific fashion. Slaughtered remains of men, women, children and animals limped and crawled, all glowing with dark, infernal drive towards the warriors, throwing themselves on them in attack.

Excalibur formed in Arthur’s hand in time for him to slash at the mutilated corpse which lunged at him. The glowing blade rend through the cadaver, causing it to fall lifelessly in two on the ground once more, but those around him were not as lucky. It would appear that Excalibur was the only blade which caused harm to the reanimated bodies, no matter how many slices they received they kept advancing, clawing soldiers down into heaps of mangled body parts as the corpses bit and scratches and clawed and tore at the flesh around them. Magic seemed a bit more effective against them, but even then it only seemed to slow them down mores than stop them.

Mordred seemed to be battling both the reanimated dead _and_ his mind. With one hand he flungthe ones closest to him high up into the air like projectiles, and yet his other hand was pressing against his ear. That, coupled with the was his was face scrunched in what seemed like pain, seemed to indicate something else was going on with him.

Percival was, not surprisingly, at his side, having long since given up trying to stab the bodies and instead had picked up a long, steady piece of wood, which he was using to bash into the creatures, following Mordred’s example of trying to keep the beings away since killing (or re-killing) them seemed impossible.

Elyan and Leon were working as a pair, dodging lunges and using that momentum to shove the bodies deep into what appeared to be a dried up well. The snarls and cries coming from inside the well proved they had been doing this for a while now, and they kept looking over every chance they got, no doubt to see just how filled it was getting, and the looks they were giving each other proved that it was filling up quite quickly and that they would need to come up with a different plan soon.

Gwaine and Lancelot were leading a group trying to protect the medical wagon. They were still on horseback, using their horse’s might kicks to send the things that had gotten close enough to the wagon to go flying away, while those on foot charged, swinging with their sheathed swords, trying to knock the creatures back and away.

The changelings, on the other hand, were having a little better luck with their attacks, which were very slightly hurting the undead, and yet were not managing to truly kill them. They fought harder still, trying to keep the reanimated from going at the swain.

Speaking of the swain, Bors was clearly yelling orders to the boys, who were holding their weapons yet were clearly terrified. The wagons were surrounded and were not able to make a retreat to safety, and considering the ones trying to protect the wagon were slowly becoming overrun the swain would not be able to stay out of harm’s way this fight. Fionn, Cadman, Killian, Monatgue and Geraint were at the forefront, trying to protect the swain’s wagons, and yet while they were bravely facing the danger, all around them their men were slowly being dragged screaming into the horde.

Valiant was having far too much fun. He had forgone his sword for his warhammer, and was using it to bash in everything around him. He was a creature built for battle, for war, for bloodshed, and the amount of darkness within him _showed_ as he let loose on the hordes around them. He threw himself off of his horse and into the multitudes, screaming and laughing and jeering the creatures to turn on him.

And yet even with all this bravery and viciousness, the tide was turning on the undead as more of more seemed to appear, emerging from the earth, as those dead for centuries clawed their way out of the ground to join the frenzy. It would seem that Tauren’s dark magic had infected even the earth they stood upon, bringing all those who had bene buried in it back to do his nefarious bidding.

There were too many! The army was slowly yet surely—they would—!

And then the creatures all froze, eyes wide and heads tilted upwards as darkness began to pour out of their mouths visibly.

Arthur followed the multiple path of darkness and watched in horror as Merlin, stood in the middle of it all, head tilted back, hands held out, darkness shifting all around him, while tentacles of black slipped their way into his mouth. He was consuming the darkness that was anchoring or powering this horrible spell, he was saving the soldiers who’d been savagely hurt and were now being pulled away to safety by their friends, he was feeding the dragon - but he was also doing exactly what Tauren had clearly planned on him doing, and _that_ terrified Arthur beyond belief.

One by one the beings fell lifelessly once more as the last of the darkness was sucked out of them. One by one they began to disintegrate, the darkness that had been within them clearly having corroded them like acid. One by one they became nothing but dark ash which the wind took away.

In a desperate effort to keep Merlin from ingesting all of the darkness - which he knew had to be tainted somehow if Tauren had set this whole thing up - Arthur sliced through the bodies remaining, desperately slashing left and right, fighting his annoyance that everyone else seemed content to just tend to the wounded or stare slack-jawed at Merlin in awe. Was this how the battle was going to be? Were they just going to be content to allowing Merlin to pull all the weight? 

Finally the last of the reanimated fell at his blade, and Arthur turned towards Merlin as Excaliburdisappeared from his grip, the blade no longer needed. Even with no more darkness slithering towards him in the air like snakes Merlin remained where he had been before, head thrown back, hands held up at his sides.

“Merlin?” Arthur approached him worriedly.

Merlin did not react.

Unease filled Arthur even as the armies cheered the victory, with Valiant yelling on how Camelot had underestimated their Grand Court Sorcerer. Honestly, Arthur wanted to tell them all to shut the hell up, but he did not, instead he finally made it to Merlin and placed his hand on the cambion’s chest. “Merlin.”

Immediately Merlin’s face snapped downwards to stare at Arthur blankly, almost as if he did not know who he was.

The sight sent shiver down Arthur’s spine. “ _Merlin?_ ”

Instead of answering, Merlin’s gaze shifted subtly around them, taking in the village and the soldiers - taking in the wounded being taken to the medical wagons - taking in King Valiant declaring for some reason that this was where they would make their camp. The cambion eyed the bodies still in the process of disintegration. He tilted his head and watched a certain corpse slowly turn to ash, and then his gaze followed the trajectory of the ash as it was taken away from the wind.

“Did _she_ do this?” Merlin finally asked softly.

“Did who do this?” Arthur wanted to know, a sick feeling churning in his gut.

Those blue eyes shifted back to Arthur before Merlin flinched and brought a hand to his head. He blinked once, twice, and then when he opened his eyes once more he sighed and reached out, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck. “I think taking in all that darkness overwhelmed me a little.”

Despite feeling relief Arthur clung worriedly to his mate. “Where did you go a couple of seconds ago? You asked if ‘she’ had done this.”

“She who?” Merlin asked tiredly into his hair - and that itself was worrisome because if the dragon had fed it should be active, should not be causing Merlin to feel sleepy.

“I am not sure but, but I wonder whether you had meant your mother,” Arthur admitted with a frown. “Merlin, you know that you just played into Tauren’s hands, right? You _know_ that he must’ve rigged things like this so that you would ingest that darkness.”

“I also know he would have used a good amount of power and energy doing this spell,” Merlin responded with a yawn. “I know that if I had hesitated people would’ve died - people were hurt because I—-.”

“ _This is war!_ ” Arthur hissed as he pulled away to stare into Merlin’s face. “People will die! That is what happens in war! That does not give you the right to foolishly do exactly what that monster wants you to do!” He slammed his palm into Merlin’s chest. “You have whatever he did to that energy inside of you right now!” He slammed his palm into Merlin’s chest once more, even harder. “It could be doing something to you as we speak!”

“Lord Merlin!” Valiant yelled from where he stood, covered in guts and gore. “A word, if you may.”

Arthur grit his teeth to keep from telling Valiant to go to hell.

Merlin nodded and moved around Arthur, headed towards King Valiant.

The blonde turned and watched him go in worry.

“I agree, Merlin should not have taken the darkness into him,” a voice declared from behind him.

Arthur did not react, merely watched Merlin talking to Valiant. “Anyone who knows him knows that he would do that though.”

“Exactly. Clearly it was a trap.” Sophia - dressed in Bors’ clothes - came to stand next to Arthur, her gaze on Merlin as well. “The question now is exactly _what_ did Tauren use the darkness to do?” She glanced towards Mordred. “He seemed overwhelmed when the darkness appeared, it wasn’t in fear, but he kept gripping his head tightly, as if he was hearing something very loudly.”

Arthur turned towards his brother, who was looking at Merlin in worry as well before turning to Arthur and Bors. “Well, I think we are about to find out.”

“And so is Percy because, as always, he’s being Mordred’s shadow and following him over here,” Sophia snickered. 

Mordred hurried to their sides, eyes narrowed. “Something happened to Emrys when he consumed that darkness. His mind _completely_ closed off.” He shifted slightly to turn a look towards where Merlin was listening intently to Valiant and nodding his agreement to whatever the man was saying to him. “And before he—when they were—they were _thinking_ , it was thousands of thoughts all incredibly loud—but they weren’t just thoughts, they were all being said in the same voice. A male voice.”

Arthur and Sophia shared worried (yet not surprised) looks.

“Is that why you covered your ears?” Percy frowned.

Mordred nodded.

“What were the thoughts saying?” Arthur wanted to know as he turned to his half brother. “The other druids didn’t seem to hear it, so why did _you_?”

“I do not know I a seem to be the only druid to have heard them,” Mordred admitted. “But I know what I heard. It was the same four words hissed over and over again like a flood, like some infernal chant.”

“What _did_ you hear?” Sophia wanted to know, eyes narrowed.

Mordred hesitated, an uneasy look on his face, before he finally answered. “ _Remember, My Little Dragon_.” The druid turned to Arthur in utter worry. “The sorcerer who cast this spell is trying to get Emrys to remember something, but I do not know what. But whatever it is, it cannot be good.” He reached out and gripped Arthur’s shoulder, staring into his eyes in worry. “Please keep a good eye on Emrys, he might seem fine now but I am afraid something has happened. And if something has, as his chosen Consort you will be the _only one_ who will be able to get through to him.”

Arthur stared up at his brother in surprise at his conviction, before realizing in awe that this was not only Mordred’s way of recognizing Arthur’s position and importance in Merlin’s life, but ofconveying his acceptance of it. This was Mordred, completely stepping back, and despite clearly still caring for Merlin and wanting to protect him - was merely offering all the informationhe had which could help, and expecting Arthur, as Merlin’s mate, to do his part. It shocked Arthur just how much his brother’s acceptance actually meant to him, especially since he’d been very certain that _it did not_ , but clearly, oddly enough, it _did_.

“I will,” Arthur assured Mordred as he glanced around at the others. “And I will come to you all should I require your assistance.”

“Of course.” Percival nodded.

Arthur turned his worried gaze on Merlin, who was still talking with Valiant, but who had been joined by Gwaine as well. The three of them had grave yet determined looks upon their faces as they nodded, clearly coming to some agreement or decision on how they should proceed from here.

Merlin’s gaze shifted to Arthur and he smiled unhappily at him.

Arthur sighed and returned the look, wondering exactly what had been decided on between the three.

* * *

 Sophia was more needed than Bors now given her connection with the Dragonlord and the Dragonblade, which was why she was in this form while making her rounds around the camp. They were stationed in the remains of the village. Only ash and some burning buildings remained of what must have been a nice village, and while the men were still on edge from the fight, from the first taste of the enemy they would come up against, they were also surprisingly upbeat. Fewer of their men than expected had been gravely wounded - and were being attended to by Cassius - and the topic kept shifting back to Merlin’s display of power by sucking the life right out of the reanimated corpses.

While the comments and awe were somewhat evenly distributed between those of Mercia, Escetia and Caerleon, it was those of Camelot who were the most amusing (at least in her opinion) since their awe was also tinged with some very odd national pride. Either these specific men of Camelot were incredibly corrupted by their time in Mercia, or they just heralded a primal shift in Camelot’s moralistic views, because, well…

“You realize that we may have been given the great honor of having witnessed the conception of the heir,” one of the men whispered in awe to the group of men around the small campfire. “Surely, after such a thorough seeding, Prince Arthur will beget!”

“No no no no _no_ ,” another declared with a shake of his head. “You _heard_ what Our Prince was saying to the sorcerer, his body is still being _prepared_ to beget an heir. No doubt the amount of tupping is _priming_ Prince Arthur to conceive.”

“He called him _Husband_.” One of the knights looked incredibly unhappy at this. “Why were we not made aware of their engagement? Why were we not at least _told_ that Prince Arthur had _married_ the Mercian Grand Court Sorcerer?” He threw twig into the fire. “We are of Camelot! We should have been in attendance at the ceremony!”

“Well, _clearly_ they would be wed,” yet another declared after a moment’s silence. “They would have to make sure that the heir would not be conceived as a bastard. Surely they plan on keeping their marriage a secret until the war ends and then having another ceremony in Camelot for the whole kingdom to celebrate.”

“Radnor is right,” another announced. “They would no doubt worry that celebrating marriage while during such a tenuous time might seem inappropriate, so they have kept the ceremony secret. Also, no monarch of Camelot has ever wed his spouse on foreign ground, surely it would make sense for them to do the _official_ wedding whilst amongst our people so we may have a reason to celebrate so soon after the war.”

Nods of agreement came from those around the fireplace.

“I must admit though,” one of the older knights declared with an odd expression on his weathered face, “that while hearing the prince the night before, and seeing him today, were both great shocks for me - they put me somewhat at ease. A part of me was worried about what Our Prince had suffered through during his time as a slave in Mercia, and I wondered whether his obsession and drastic change since being returned was a mixture of a broken mind and soul, of someone shattered who had been groomed by his captor. Especially when I realized _he was receiving_ and not tupping… I was greatly concerned that they had returned our prince broken, and a twisted, former shell of himself.” His lips twitched. “But if anyone out of them is in command in that relationship, _clearly_ it is Our Prince.”

Snickers emerged from those around the campfire.

“What sort of inhuman resilience does Prince Arthur _have_?” One of the younger knights wanted to know in clear shock. “I was always told being penetrated was painful, yet he not only took it in stride—but every time it appeared the Grand Court Sorcerer was about to pull out or stop it was Our Prince who was urging him on for more. And do you see him limping or flinching? _No_. He took on those undead! Other than the Grand Court Sorcerer _Prince Arthur_ was the only one actually doing true damage to those creatures!”

“His connection with the Dragonlord has clearly made him not only mentally and physically stronger, but _spiritually_ as well,” the first knight to have spoken declared decisively. “It is thanks to their marriage bond that he is able to summon and wild Excalibur with such might and power.”

The knights nodded, all visibly proud of their young prince.

“We must win this war, boys, and we must win it soon,” one of the knights announced with utter determination. “You saw Prince Arthur, he is in desperate need of an official wedding and the uninterrupted sequestering thereafter. We have never _truly_ seen their interaction the way we are now, and it is _clear_ that the many duties both had had to shoulder in the Mercian Court have hampered the time they need to prepare Prince Arthur. While I myself cannot understand the mechanics of whatever happens once one binds oneself to another magically as they have, _clearly_ the magic needed to give us the heir we desire leaves Our Prince suffering for need of his husband’s cock—and if you think about it, it would make sense.”

“I agree.” Radnor leaned forwards. “Prince Arthur has _clearly_ put our needs as a kingdom above his own, not only agreeing to shift his own body, but quite obviously shouldering the consequences of that sort of magic. When Sir Leon came back after his talk with the Grand Court Sorcerer and confirmed that it truly _was_ possible for them to breed, I was very curious as to _how_ the magic could do this, but I now wonder if it is not…”

The men around the fire all leaned closer to Radnor, eyes wide and very obviously intrigued with whatever he was saying.

“It is not as if it is _natural_ for a man to give birth,” Radnor continued on with a clearing of his throat. “Darkest of magics must be involved, surely just as dark as the magics that are rumored to have been used to allow Queen Igraine to conceive as well.” He did not seem to notice everyone but the older knights look in surprise at each other, clearly having forgotten about that detail. “Both would be procreative magics - _mating_ magics - and while I am not versed in magics whatsoever _clearly_ Prince Arthur was close to a mating fever earlier.” He cleared his throat. “It seemed obvious to me that every time the Grand Court Sorcerer… _seeded_ … him, Prince Arthur looked in less pain.”

“I noticed that too.”

“I as well.”

“So did I.”

“True true.”

“So, given that,” Radnor continued, “one has to assume that the magics that are being used to give us our heir are turning Our Prince into…”

When he hesitated, one of the other knights glared. “Spit it out, Radnor!”

“I am trying to find a way of saying it which does not sound disrespectful!” Radnor hissed back. “I do not _mean_ it disrespectfully, I mean it with more respect than I could ever feel, but it is the only _term_ I can think of which suitably—.”

“ _G_ _ods below_ , Radnor!” Another knight snapped. “Just _say_ it!”

“But I—-!” Seeing the glares on him, Radnor cleared his throat. “Again, despite how the term might sound I say this with not only the uttermost respect for Our Prince, but complete and genuine humility and gratitude for the devotion Prince Arthur has for our kingdom that he would do this to himself in order to give us the only heir that could—.”

“If you do not just _spit it out_ I will _punch_ you,” a knight declared warningly.

Radnor gulped. “What I have been trying to say is that, given the magics and how they are changing him, I doubt that it will be temporary. Not magics that dark, that _godly_. And if they are meant to aid in procreation, especially in a body that was not originally designed for procreation, that, coupled with the obvious endless desire Prince Arthur shows - as if he is addicted to his husband’s cock and in constant pain if he does not have that fire quenched by an endless supply of his lover’s seed…” Radnor gulped once more and looked around the fire at the eyes watching him intently. “…I just mean to say that it would appear that in order to give Camelot the heir it needs, Prince Arthur might have agreed to allow himself to become a… a…” He closed his eyes tightly, cheeks red. “ _A bitch in heat_.” He covered his face in embarrassment. “I am saying this because we all saw him, not even being on a _horse’s saddle_ could stop… Prince Arthur may be in heat for the rest of his life now because of this.” He breathed in deeply and removed his hands as he stared at the shaken men. “And so we must be prepared to protect the Prince and make sure that he is rewarded for the sacrifice he has made for Camelot. We must make sure that _no one_ ever aggrieves him for what _must_ be done to assuage the pain he has put himself through for us.”

There was silence, and then the older knight nodded. “I have realized the same thing.” He gazed at the younger men. “Our Prince will become Our King, will give us the only Heir we can accept as a kingdom… and if he has to constantly be tupped by his husband - no matter where or when - in order to handle the effects of the magics he has undergone for the survival of our kingdom we should see it as an _honor_.”

“I am going to be honest here,” a redheaded knight declared, drawing attention onto himself. “I fully expected them to tup endlessly all over Camelot, but it had nothing to do with the points raised by Radnor. One must merely look at Mercia, and at how Mercian Prince Arthur has become, to know that even without the procreating magics it will be a familiar sight to find him breached by his husband. How many of _us_ have come across them tupping all over the castle or its grounds? They are both constantly hungry for the other, and as I said before, I am going to be completely honest here, so I am going to admit that should they _stop_ being like that in Camelot _I would get worried_.”

A couple of knights shared embarrassed but agreeing looks.

“I agree with Reuben,” another knight admitted. “While the Grand Court Sorcerer is a male, a Mercian, _and_ a Dragonlord, thus scandalous in any way you look at it as a pairing with Our Prince, we would not have a chance at recuperating our kingdom without him. It is only due to Prince Arthur having not only entranced the sorcerer, but having stolen him away from his many other countless lovers, and stoked and encouraged the man’s obsession towards him, that the Grand Court Sorcerer made sure that Camelot was to be allowed its own sovereignty after the war.” He let out a heavy breath. “It will also be the Grand Court Sorcerer's power, and his connection with Mercia, which will allow us to recuperate from the war without being besieged by any of the other kingdoms trying to take advantage of our moment of need.” He fixed the men with a dark look. “So not only will I be  _incredibly_ uneasy should they not carry on as frequently and openly as they have in Mercia, but I will actively  _encourage_ them to should I feel they are not. I do not trust _for a second_ that the Dragonlord will remain as obsessed with Prince Arthur as he is now should he be forced to abstain from his uninhibited partaking of him for the sake of the propriety of Camelot’s Court. His attention could very well start to waver, to shift onto a new individual, and _that_ would be the greatest mistake we could allow to happen. We must forever stoke the flames of his obsession with Prince Arthur, even if it means he _lives_ buried inside of Our Prince.”

“You sound like you are using Our Prince as _bait_ to lure in a monster,” one of the knights muttered.

“ _I am_ ,” the knight responded with no shame whatsoever. “I _expect_ the rest of you to do the same, and that when we get our kingdom back, you instruct your peers and those you know in the kingdom as well of how things will be now. There will be those who will not understand the same way we do, but the Grand Court Sorcerer must _never_ fall out of love - _or_ out of _obsession_ \- with Prince Arthur. Our Sovereign has undone the damage that his father did by causing the expulsion of the Dragonlords from Camelot, he has returned a strength we lost due to—-.”

“Wait, was it not King Constantine III - King Uther’s _father_ \- who banished the Dragonlords?” One of the younger knights asked in confusion.

“Yes, but it was due to the then Princes Uther and Aurelius Ambrosius that it happened,” the older knight revealed, confirming the other’s tale, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Did Mercer himself not tell us that he had overheard King Uther promising Prince Arthur the Dragonlord Heir would be his? True, at the time they did not know he was the Dragonlord Heir, but even so, despite our previous king’s stance on homosexuality and such, did none of you find it odd that he would make such a promise to _his heir?”_

“Are you saying _King Uther_ —?” One of the knights asked in surprise.

“No.” The older knight shook his head. “I am saying, however, that he must have learnt his lesson. For, you see, he was the cause of the expulsion of the Dragonlords from Camelot because he discovered _his brother_ being tupped by a male Dragonlord who had not only been appointed as Aurelius’ guardian and tutor, but had secretly been his lover for (if the rumors can be believed) _many years_. Despite Prince Aurelius’ pleas for Uther not to tell their father, for they both knew what the man would do should he discover the truth, especially given that Aurelius was the heir, Prince Uther told King Constantine everything. I truly believe he felt he was doing the right thing, and that in his youth he failed to understand the truth of his brother’s feelings for the older man, that he believed his brother had been manipulated and abused. So I believe that Prince Uther went to this father to reveal the truth believing he was saving his brother, but in the end it caused nothing but pain and suffering for so many innocent. The Dragonlord was executed for what was viewed as treason against Camelot and its king, and the rest of his family were sent into exile.” The older knight sighed. “Prince Aurelius never forgave his father or brother for his lover’s death, nor the way they treated it as just, and then tried to force him to take a wife soon after. He tried to take his own life but was once more thwarted by Prince Uther when he discovered him bleeding in the tub. He was revived against his will, and after that his hatred was unbearable, his hostility seething, until the day he finally murdered his father, gravely injured his brother, and disappeared into the night swearing he would destroy Camelot and its family for what they had done to him.”

There was silence amongst the group as they took it in.

“So Prince Arthur reminded King Uther of his brother,” one of the younger knights whispered in understanding. “It was why - when he thought he had killed the Grand Court Sorcerer - and Prince Arthur became that empty shell - King Uther tried to bring in pretty girls, and a boy, and even the _knights_ to try and—and keep Arthur from becoming like _Aurelius_.” Those brown eyes widened. “And that is why, once he realized the Grand Court Sorcerer was still alive, that he made that deal with Prince Arthur that Mercer overheard! Because… because he did not want Prince Arthur to become like Aurelius, to have him turn on him the way Aurelius turned on King Constantine.”

“Had our prejudices not existed, neither would this war,” the older knight declared severely. “We must now make sure to never repeat the mistakes of the past, and to support and encourage Prince Arthur as he tries to repair the damage which has been brought upon Camelot and his own family, due to the sins of the past.”

The knights all nodded their heads, expressions grim, determined.

Intrigued, Sophia slipped back into the shadows, leaving the group to their dark musings. She checked on the swain, on Fionn and Cadman. Arthur was off to the side talking to Lancelot so she did not bother him, instead went to where Merlin stood off by himself, staring in the distance towards where the battle would be held. 

Even though he was still pissed at her, Sophia made her way to his side and stared out into the distance. “Arthur is smart enough to know that something is wrong with you, you know. And before you make some smart-ass comment about me no doubt ‘running my mouth’ let me say that—.”

“I apologize for how I treated you before,” Merlin interrupted as he continued to stare off into the distance. “Arthur helped me see things from a different perspective, and while I am not happy with him knowing… I am grateful that his knowing helped us grow closer together. I am grateful that you have his back, that he feels he has someone he can trust and go to for support.” He turned to look at Sophia. “It is also why I need to now ask a favor of you, Lady of the Lake.”

“You are using my title,” she noted with a sigh. “That cannot be good.”

He smiled tiredly at her before returning his gaze to the distance. “Tauren is awaiting me, I can _feel_ him calling.” He let out a ragged breath as he ran shaky fingers through his hair. “I do not know what this darkness has done, but you need to promise me that if I turn on Arthur, if there is a choice between my life and his, you will choose his.”

Sophia’s mouth went dry. “I do not want to.”

He laughed darkly. “You two are alike, you know? You and Arthur?”

“Then you know he would not want me to make that promise either,” she mumbled uneasily as she hugged herself tightly. “Do not go into this battle already believing yourself defeated, Dragonlord Heir. Give yourself and your magic more credit than that.”

“I am not going in feeling defeated, I will fight with all that I have within me, but ever since I was a child Tauren has always been a hundred steps ahead of me in every way possible,” Merlin replied with a shiver of fear racing down his spine. “He has taken so much from me already, Sophia, but I cannot let him take Arthur as well. No matter what. Arthur _must_ survive this war, must survive Tauren, must survive _all_.”

“Dragonlord Heir, you are _an idiot_ ,” she informed him.

Merlin turned to her in surprise.

“Do you _really think_ that boy will survive this war if _you_ do not?” She huffed in disbelief. “Would _you_ survive this war if _he_ did not?”

The question made him go pale immediately as he shook his head. “I would not want to breathe should anything—-.”

“Then do not insult his feelings for you by behaving as if they are less real or intense than yours are,” she informed him darkly. “If you want to assure yourself that Arthur will survive this war—then make sure _you do as well_. There is no other way of doing so than that.”

Merlin stared at her in silence before a curious smile tilted the corner of his lips. “You really _are_ faithful to him. No _wonder_ he defended you so strongly to me.”

She huffed, refusing to show how much that had pleased her. “The sword and the souls bound to it are mine to protect - no matter _how_ difficult they make it.”

His smile twisted a little more before he turned to look back towards the distance, his smile fading. “He is there, Sophia. His army is right over those hills in the distance. They are waiting for us, for me.”

“I just overheard the knights from Camelot talking about how they need to continuously stoke your obsession with Arthur,” Sophia informed him casually with a raised eyebrow. “Also, quite a couple of them mentioned the fact that they would be incredibly  _disturbed_ should you not spend your time in court whilst ruling Camelot not only continuously buried inside of him, but seeding him as well.”

Merlin turned to look at her in utter surprise, his voice a high-pitched squeak when he asked: “ _What_?”

“It would appear they believe Arthur is in constant pain, a pain which can only be alleviated by your seed,” Sophia informed him with a twitch of her lips, figuring it was not that far off from the truth. “They intend to make sure their future king lives with constant relief from his husband. Also, on that note, they seem to think you two have married in secret so any heir you have will not be illegitimate should it be conceived before the war is over. They believe you two are waiting to have your ‘real’ wedding in Camelot as all monarchs do. They also believe Arthur is in desperate need of the month-long sequestering couples have after their wedding so that you can truly give him the uninterrupted seeding he oh-so desperately needs.”

Merlin just _stared_ at her with wide eyes.

Sophia grinned evilly at him. “I just thought I should tell you so it could serve as a reminder of _why_ you should not die.”

That shock turned to dark amusement as Merlin grinned at her. “I definitely should not.”

“I agree.” Sophia nodded.

The two smiled at each other before Merlin sighed and looked back into the distance. “Tonight we make camp, perform the ritual, and then march to meet the enemy. Tonight we battle for Mercia, for Camelot, for _Albion_.”

“For _you and Arthur_ ,” Sophia added softly.

Merlin reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

Placing her hand over his, Sophia looked out into the distance and sighed.

Tonight.

It all happened _tonight_.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some disturbing content in this chapter. It has been left in bold to make easier to skip.

In an effort to avoid the soldiers from forgetting all about the war and turning all their attention on the lovers, pets and swain in the camp, the ritual was being conducted on the hilltop right before the one where Merlin could feel Aurelius and Tauren’s army awaiting them. To be quite honest Merlin was still against them doing this considering just how close the dark moon was, but given that he now knew Tauren was the adversary Merlin hushed any reservations he had about what they were doing. If he was being quite frank, he was nauseated with nerves, was utterly terrified, found it hard to breathe, and was on the borders of a panic attack - all just at the _thought_ of seeing his godfather again.

Years had passed - _so many years_ \- Merlin had grown up and had toughened up, had gone through so much, had matured, and yet at the thought of seeing Tauren Merlin could feel himself turning back into a child once more. He hated it. Hated that weakness. Hated the fear that still filled him. Hated how he could so easily close his eyes and find himself back in that year with Tauren, could remember it all so vividly. Hated the fact that a part of him had always assumed his godfather had just had certain proclivities - Merlin had convinced himself that even should the impossible happen and he ever see his dead godfather again that he would be safe because he was too old now to be sexually attractive him. And yet that obviously wasn’t the case. Tauren hadn’t been interested in him due to his young age, he had been interested in him for _some other_ reason, and whatever that other reason had been it seemed to still be there, still be a draw.

What was it? What had Merlin unconsciously continued to cultivate in himself that still made him of interest to Tauren? Or was it merely the inner dragon? But it was not as if Merlin was the only Dragonlord remaining alive. True, there were very few and far between, but it would have been easier to track down another Dragonlord than to go to these extremes just to get back at Merlin. Had Tauren just needed _a_ dragon for whatever he wanted it would have been safer for him, easier for him, _quicker_ for him, to just find another one. So why hadn’t he? Why had he stayed in the shadows after faking his own death and plotted this? Why try to appeal to Merlin’s dragon when he himself was the reason for it being trapped? What was Tauren planning for Merlin?

Just the thought filled him with terror and he was nearly physically sick, but he managed to get his breathing - his expression - under control while continuing to weave the spell for the ritual in the air between his hands. Only a few of those going into battle would not be receiving the dark ritual (such as Arthur and Fionn, who as a Consort and lover respectively could only receive the darkness through their Endarkened) but the rest remained ahead of Merlin, heads lowered, concentrating on finding and maintaining the fury deep within them.

Merlin was supposed to be doing the same, but he wasn’t too worried, because his terror was dark enough to fuel the spell itself, which only really needed dark emotion of any kind. Magic began to ripple out physically as the design he weaved extended over the group slowly but surely. He glanced over towards Arthur, finding the boy standing between Fionn and Bors, watching him with intensity. Usually Merlin would try to smile at his mate and calm him, but he was such a mess that he could not do anything to try and make the blonde feel better, so instead he looked away and continued to weave the spell over the large group.

**_Remember, My Little Dragon_**.

A shiver raced down Merlin’s since and he nearly faltered in the design, yet he pushed on, refusing to show just how much that voice whispering in his head affected him.

**_Remember, My Little Dragon_**.

Remember _what_ exactly? What did Tauren want him to remember? Whatever it was, Merlin knew instinctively that if he had forgotten it, it was for a good reason - most probably for his own sanity. Hell, what he _could_ remember sometimes was unbearable, and if that was what his mind had allowed him to remember, what would have his mind have considered too much for him to bear? Whatever it was, Merlin did _not_ want to remember it.

**_Remember, My Little Dragon._ **

Forcing the spell stronger, faster, Merlin did his best to ignore the voice whispering in his head like an infernal chant. He was putting a little too much energy into the weaving, into the casting, but he needed to cast the spell, to complete the ritual, before… before…

**_Remember, My Little Dragon._ **

Black spots began to dance around him as all sound began to distort.

Eyes flashing gold, Merlin flung the spell out like a fishing net, casting it upon the army, the magically weaved design tumbling down and catching on them like a spiderweb on the wind before beginning to seep into them as a circle surrounded the men, turning the ground into a mass of black, making the men appear to be hovering over a large pit. And from that pit, darkness emerged, seeping into the men.

**_Remember, My Little Dragon_**.

The black spots bled out, and then everything was black as Merlin was dragged under, issuing one last command to his magic before finally losing his battle with consciousness.

* * *

 

The men were screaming, or better said, roaring. They were grabbing at their own hair and pulling out bits while snarling, their veins darkened against their skin, pulsating with the darkness that seeped in through their eyes. Howls and inhuman screams echoed terrifyingly around them as many collapsed to the ground and others seemed to claw at their own faces. Honestly, it was one of the most terrifying things Arthur had ever seen, but what truly worried him was the blank way Merlin watched the happenings. The cambion merely stared at a the writhing, agonized army with no care, almost as if he was not seeing what was happening right before his eyes to the army.

“ _Cadman_ ,” Fionn whispered worriedly as he stared at his master, visibly keeping himself from going to him.

Not for the first time was Arthur relieved not to be a vessel of these rituals. He’d participated in very few, the first being the orgy during his time as a slave, but as always he was Merlin’s filter, so to speak, never had he been targeted as a vessel. Merlin had warned him that being so close to the dark moon would feed the spell and make the darkness… stronger than ever… and Merlin had worried that what they were about to do would have lasting consequences no one could expect, but despite all of that Arthur had not expected _this_.

The men seemed to be becoming less human by the second. Not physically, mind you. They looked just as human as they always had, at least on the _outside_. There was something clearly inhuman, clearly animalistic, clearly _monstrous_ lurking beneath their skin though, fueling the manic, utterly crazed look in their eyes and the seemingly endless screams emerging from their parted lips. Those who were taking the darkness for the first time - such as those from Camelot - were doing much better than those from Mercia who had undergone several other similar rituals and were much closer to that line that separated man from monster.

One of the worse was Valiant, who seemed close to tearing his own skin off. His nostrils flared and his muscles rippled terrifyingly as he forced himself onto his feet from where he’d been pounding his fists viciously into the ground. Valiant took a step towards Merlin, and another, and another, and just when Arthur was about to race forwards and intervene Merlin reached out and embraced the king, who began sniffing him desperately and grabbing at his clothes and body urgently. Valiant rubbed against Merlin and snarled viciously at whatever Merlin was whispering into his ear.

Arthur just froze as he watched what was happening in utter shock. What the hell was Merlin _doing_?

And that was when he felt it, the dragon and the demon were in turmoil.

* * *

 

_There were soft voices coming from father’s study again. That wasn’t unusual as that was usually where their visitors would go to speak, or to tup with his father. What_ **_was_ ** _unusual was the fact that someone had come so late at night. Usually the doors to the manor did not open after certain hours, and yet Merlin had awoken to an odd feeling in the house, and he had followed it down to the study to hear the voices and realize that his parents were not alone, not only was his godfather there, but so was someone else._

_“We never blamed you,” Balinor assured the person who was seated on the chair with its back to Merlin, leaving the boy unable to see who was on it. “If there was anyone in your family, in that kingdom, we do not hate and want dead - do not blame - it is_ **_you_ ** _.” He let out a heavy sigh. “You loved him, just like we did. You are family.”_

_“You do not understand the weight that has been lifted from my shoulders to hear that,” a soft voice sighed. “When I found out where you were I came immediately to see you, to see—Balinor, I do not know if you are aware of this, but Dragonlords are disappearing.”_

_The look exchanged by Hunith and Balinor proved that yes, they were aware._

_“It is the work of my father which is being continued by my brother,” the voice declared. “The reason I killed my father was because I discovered that not only was he not content with murdering Myrddin, and exiling your family, but they have been sending mercenaries out to pick off the Dragonlords who have been exiled as they fear retribution for his and my brother’s unfair, cruel actions.” There was a heavy sigh as the figure leaned forwards in his seat, revealing a hint of a face younger than Balinor’s. “They are hunting the Dragonlords into extinction.”_

_“It is the same thing which Bayard’s ancestors have done to mine,” Tauren sighed heavily with a shake of his head. “It is what he continues."_

_“I can believe it of your brother, but_ **_Bayard_ ** _…_ **_that_ ** _is what is so hard for me to swallow.” Balinor appeared pained as he whispered this. “How could I have known him for so long yet not have known he was capable of such horrible acts?”_

_Hunith reached out and squeezed his knee reassuringly._

_“It is because they have forgotten the truth, no, they have not forgotten, they are filled with pride and with fear, because_ **_they remember_ ** _the Old Ways, the_ **_true_ ** _ways.” The newcomer’s voice was low in anger. “And that is why, as I explained to you both before, I need Merlin.” He took in a deep breath, looking from Balinor to Hunith and back. “I will fix what has been broken, I will right what has been wronged, but to do so I need you to give me Merlin.”_

_Tauren glanced between Hunith and Balinor impassively._

_Merlin stared at his parents in confused worry. Who was this man and why was he asking his parents for him? It made no sense! Why would he—-?_

_Hunith nodded to Balinor, who took in a deep breath and turned to the stranger. “Are you sure you want to do this?”_

_“Yes,” the man declared immediately without a question’s doubt. “So please, I beg of you, give me Merlin.”_

_Balinor stared at him before sighing and nodding once more, slower this time. “We understand, Aurelius. When the time comes, you have our blessing.”_

_Tauren’s eyes narrowed as he pushed away from the wall, his lips parting, but Merlin would never know what he had been about to say, because his own voice drowned out his godfather’s as he flung the door open._

_“_ ** _What_** _?” Merlin cried out and stumbled into the room, drawing their surprised and horrified attention onto him. “What do you_ **_mean_ ** _he can have me? Who is he!? Why would you say that? I do not understand!”_

_Hunith’s eyes widened as she hurried to her feet. “Honey! What are you doing awake at this hour? You should be asleep!”_

_“Why are you giving me to this man?” Merlin yelled, disconsolate, feeling scared and betrayed by the three people who he trusted the most, the three people who were his nucleus, his family, his life. There were very few people that Merlin had met while living in his home, and these three were his only constant, were the only ones who mattered, who he trusted, but had that been a lie? His father and mother had just promised to give him to this stranger! And his godfather had just stood and watched!_

_Balinor stood by his wife’s side and turned a very rare and stern expression on Merlin. “Lower your tone, young man.”_

_“_ **_NO_** _!” Merlin screamed at his father, visibly shocking him when he did so, yet he did not care, something inside of him was twisting, was coiling deep inside of him. He did not know what it was, he had never felt it before, but it was alive and it was coiled and it was readying to strike viciously. “_ **_I WILL_ ** **_NOT_** ** _!_ ** _”_

_The man who had been sitting with his back to Merlin stood and turned, proving he was a handsome blonde who was appeared to be quite a couple of years younger than Balinor and Tauren. It was almost hard to distinguish him as a man though, because while Merlin’s first thought had been that he was handsome, the term ‘beautiful’ seemed to fit better. He wasn’t as tall or muscular as Balinor or Tauren, and his face lacked all the hard edges, his features softer than even Hunith’s._

_His eyes were a very pretty shade of blue, and those blue eyes were wide as he stared at Merlin, naturally pink lips parted, golden skin quickly going pale. When he spoke, his voice was shaky and raspy, as if it was hard for him to get any sound out. “You did not tell me that he looks just like Myrddin.”_

_“Who are you?” Merlin turned his glare on this person. “Who are you and_ **_why_ ** _did my parents just_ **_give_ ** _me to you?”_

_“Merlin, honey,_ **_please_** _,” Hunith begun as she left Balinor’s side to come towards him. “You do not understand. We—.”_

_Merlin turned his glare on her, his teeth clenched, and saw her flinch back in horrified shock, seeing the look reflected on his father’s face. They both seemed to be looking at the same thing, and he glanced down instinctively, seeing the slices he somehow had not felt before all over his arms, and the view of scale beneath. Ripples of something moved under his skin, as if something else lived beneath it and was wriggling around. Normally should he see something horrifying like this Merlin would have been terrified, but it did not phase him, in fact, he clenched his fists - watched more slices open up and dark blood begin to drip, before he turned his eyes on the stranger. “_ ** _Who are you_** _?”_

_The young man just_ **_stared_ ** _at Merlin before falling to his knees, his voice even breathier than before. “Who are_ **_you_ ** _?”_

_“I am Merlin Dragonlord,” he replied darkly as he stormed towards this man to stand before him, staring into that pretty yet distraught face that stared right back at him breathlessly. His eyes narrowed. His voice deepened in a way that should be impossible, as Merlin reached out and grabbed a fistful of that chin-length blonde hair. “_ ** _Who. Are. You_** _?”_

_Instead of answering, the stranger looked close to tears as his face scrunched in agony and he wrapped his arms around Merlin’s body, pulling him close as he sobbed into his chest and completely broke down. “_ ** _Myrddin_** _.”_

_“Why do you keep saying my grandfather’s name?” Merlin asked, all anger turning to confusion. He had never actually met his grandfather, he had died before Merlin’s birth, but his father had told him stories of the man. Did he really look like his grandfather? If so, this man was the first one to have ever said that. Confusion completely took over, and when Merlin finally let go of the man’s hair he realized that the slices, the hint of scales, were already gone. There was blood left over but other than that there was no evidence of what had happened._

_“_ ** _I am so sorry, so sorry_** _!” The man sobbed into his chest pitifully like a broken doll. “_ ** _I tried to save you, to protect you, I begged my father, I pleaded!!! I am so sorry, Myrddin! I am so sorry!_** _”_

_Gulping, Merlin stared down at the man’s head before he patted it softly, trying to comfort him the way Hunith would whenever Merlin cried. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He didn’t understand anything, he was a little scared, very confused, and overwhelmed by everything. “You’re too pretty to cry.”_

_The blonde froze, before suddenly the wail he let out was tortured as he hugged Merlin tighter and sobbed even more brokenly than before._

_By now Merlin’s anger was completely consumed by confusion and a little worry. Had he hurt this person? Why did he want Merlin? Why had his parents agreed to give him to him? Why had he reacted this way to seeing Merlin’s face? To hearing Merlin’s words? What was happening? Why was it happening?_

_Panic began to clutch at his stomach and made it hard to breathe._

_The blonde looked up at Merlin from his place on his knees, his face red and streaked from his tears. He reached for Merlin’s hand and brought it to his face as he stared up at Merlin in a broken way that made Merlin feel a mixture of protective, worried, and confused, which was probably why he left his hand there and whispered once more:_

_“Don’t cry.”_

_A snarl echoed through the before as suddenly Tauren stormed towards and loomed over the two of them. He reached down and placed his palm on Merlin’s forehead, using his grip to force Merlin’s gaze up from the blonde’s face to his, his voice dark and unhappy as he rasped out, eyes flashing with magic: “This is just a dream, Merlin, just a bad dream.”_

_“What do you mean it is just a—-?” And yet Merlin’s vision blurred as his knees gave way._

_When he awoke the next day, all memory of the dream had faded away._

* * *

 

They were marching towards the battleground and no matter how hard Arthur tried to make his way through the throng towards Merlin he could not quite make it. It honestly felt as if there was magic purposefully keeping him in the background, keeping him out of Merlin’s sight. Arthur tried to talk to Merlin’s magics, tried to communicate his wishes to them, but they were too chaotic, too turbulent, too unstable, he doubted they could hear him or understand his wishes, much less respond to him. They were as deaf and blind to him as Merlin himself seemed to be. 

Speaking of Merlin, he was at the forefront, ahead of even Valiant, hand gripping the neckline of the king’s chainmail armor and seemingly leading him like a dog on a leash. He did not look back towards Arthur, not once, seeming to have forgotten he was there as he marched on ahead on foot, leading the king and his army. Valiant grunted, his body giving little twitches here and there, one hand trailing his Warhammer behind him on the ground, and the other running up and down Merlin’s back like a starving animal clawing at meat. 

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. And Arthur did not mean just with the soldiers who seemed blind to everything but the march. Their eyes were dimmed, their expressions snarled, and their movements seemed somewhat inhuman - even those merely seated on horseback.Little twitches jolted through their bodies, little snarls escaped their lips, even the sound of their breathing was too heavy, too rolled in their mouths. The very few who had not taken the darkness yet would be fighting were being completely ignored, even Fionn, who kept looking up at Cadman in worry and growing confusion when his warrior did not even acknowledge his presence.

Mordred fell into line with Arthur, Fionn and Bors, his gaze uneasy as he stared at the army surrounding them. “Arthur…”

“I know,” he assured him softly.

A sigh escaped Mordred’s lips as he turned to look at him in worry.

All Arthur could do was share that look with Fionn and Bors as well, and then turn his blues ahead of them to Merlin in time for the cambion and the army to crest over the hill… and see the terrifyingly huge army awaiting them on the other side. The prince’s breath caught in his throat. They had known they would be outnumbered, but just seeing by _how much_ was terrifying to say the least.

Bors let out a very heavy breath. “Behold, the might of Camelot.”

Fionn clenched his fists at his side. “I see their king… but where is their sorcerer?”

Valiant raised his Warhammer and let out an ear-piercing yell which was echoed by the army behind him as he charged down the hill.

This was not procedure. There was supposed to be last minute talks between both sides - there was - Arthur wanted to offer anyone who might want to switch sides from his uncle’s to his a chance - Merlin knew that - had agreed he thought it best - and yet…

As the bodies ran or rode passed him down the hill into battle, Merlin stood still from his vantage point and smirked.

* * *

 

_ “You knew my grandfather?” Merlin asked in intrigue. When the stranger had appeared on their doorstep right after breakfast he had been intrigued as they did not get many visitors, but also because a part of him felt like he might have seen this person before, despite knowing that he could not have. _

_ “Yes.” The blonde reached into his tunic and pulled out a locket, the first which Merlin had ever seen, opening it up to reveal what looked like an intricate painting, but it was so lifelike magic had to have been behind its creation. In the picture there was a man with Balinor’s black hair and blue eyes, but his face was less… rugged (or so his mother called it)… his features finer, but he was tall like Balinor, and muscular as well. Next to him was a much younger male, clearly it was their visitor only the portrait had been drawn many years ago. He was dressed in fine silks and had a thin crown on his head. Whereas the man stared at whoever had painted this portrait, the blonde boy stared up at the man in awe, a smile on his lips as he clung to the much older man’s arm and leaned into him. “Your grandfather was made my tutor and personal protector when I was younger. I knew him for many years, they were… they were the happiest years of my life.” _

_ Merlin looked up at Aurelius in intrigue before glancing back down at the small portrait. “What was he like? Father does not really talk about him much.” He moved closer to stare at the portrait at a better angle. “He only told me that he was a good man, and that I was named after him, since my name is a variant of his or something like that.” _

_ There was a pause, and then Aurelius sighed as he spoke, his gaze also on the portrait. “Even though he was a Dragonlord he was more often known as Myrddin Wyllt, since he was utterly untamable, not caring about convention or custom.” At Merlin’s confused look the young man chuckled. “Wyllt means The Wild.” _

_ Merlin’s eyes widened as he grinned. “I want to be called that! Merlin The Wild!” _

_ Aurelius stared at him before grinning and nodding. “Okay then, I will call you Merlin The Wild.” He leaned in and held out his free hand to be shaken. “We’ll make sure others learn to call you that too.” _

_ “Okay!” Merlin grinned and nodded while shaking that hand vigorously. “What else was my grandfather like?” _

_ The smile turned nostalgic as Aurelius shifted himself on the grass to get more comfortable. “He had a very intimidating aura to him, could terrify a multitude by just looking at them in a certain way, and most people seemed to only see him in that way, but in truth he was also sweet, and kind, and protective. He—…” Aurelius sighed heavily as he passed the locket to Merlin so he could hug his knees to his chest and stare out ahead of him. “My father was always away at war, your grandfather was the only constant in my life. He protected me, comforted me, stayed by my side when no one else would and taught me all kinds of wonderful things. I adored him. He was—he was my  **everything**.” _

_ Merlin looked up at the beautiful blonde, who looked incredibly sad. “You must have been very sad when he died.” _

_ Pain fluttered over Aurelius’ face as he nodded wordlessly for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse with emotion. “ **I was**.” He tried to smile at Merlin, but it was a very pitiful sight, especially given the unshed tears gathering in his pretty blue eyes. “I loved him more than life itself.” He let out a stuttered breath and looked away. “I wanted to be with him forever, I wanted — I wanted to marry him.” _

_ Staring into those tear-filled blue eyes, Merlin felt emotion clench in his stomach. It felt wrong for someone so pretty to look so sad. “I will do it then since he died before he could do that.” He shifted to look into that beautiful face, decision absolutely made. “I will marry you.” _

_ Confusion and surprise flittered over the blonde’s face as he turned to him in sputtered shock. “ **What**?” He let out a hoarse laugh as he wiped at his eyes. “You are going to marry me?” He chuckled and shook his head, amusement coloring his words when he asked: “I think I should have a say in that, don’t you agree?” _

_ Well, Merlin really didn’t know how this marriage thing worked, he had never really asked his parents to explain it to him, but he figured he would be able to work things out. “When I am old enough I will marry you,” he informed the chuckling blonde resolutely before blushing. “You’re very pretty.” _

_ Aurelius’ bit down on his bottom lip, as if to keep himself from laughing. He reached out and played with Merlin’s hair. “Thank you, but when you’re old enough I will most definitely not be as ‘pretty’ as you think I am now.” He shook his head, clearly very amused by this as he took back his locket and put it back away. “So I will not hold you to your promise.” _

_ His lips pursed further. “Then I will marry you now while you’re still pretty.” _

_ Aurelius just stared at him before throwing his head back and laughing, all his previous sadness now turned to mirth, the tears that slipped from his eyes those of amusement. _

_ Merlin pouted darker. “It is not a joke.” _

_ “I know, I’m not—I’m not laughing  **at** you,” Aurelius promised him as he straightened and rubbed Merlin’s head again. “Merlin, can I tell you something?” _

_ “Since we are going to be married one day, then, yes, I would hope so,” Merlin mumbled as he shifted in the grass to get a little closer. _

_ The amusement grew. “Merlin, one day you are going to meet someone that you are going to fall madly in love with. They are going to be the most beautiful person you have ever seen, and they will make your heart flutter, and your breathing hard to do. One day you are going to grow up and you are going to love someone fiercely, because that is the only way that a Dragonlord can love - their love…” His amusement turned to nostalgia. “A Dragonlord’s love is all-consuming, it is addictive, it is a force of nature, of life, of magic.” _

_ “I do not think I will find anyone as pretty as you, in fact, you’re not pretty, you’re beautiful,” Merlin informed him after a moment’s thought. “You’re even  **much** more beautiful than my mother,” he leaned in closely to whisper, “and she’s  **a girl**  .” _

_ Aurelius’ lips twitched, and when he spoke his amusement was obvious in his tone. “Never tell  **her** that, Merlin. It will not end well for you.” _

_ Nodding his agreement, Merlin shifted even closer. “Dad said he fell in love with mom’s hair first and then the rest of her later.” He reached out and touched Aurelius’ hair. “Yours is pretty.” He let it go and then eyed him up and down curiously. “But I prefer your eyes. They are very pretty eyes.” He leaned forwards. “I do not meet many people, I do not leave home, but you are by far the prettiest I have met so far, and I feel like you are going to be the best option I will ever have. The other options are too old… and hairy.” _

_ Aurelius covered his eyes and threw his head back, laughing. “I do not think I have laughed this hard and genuinely in ages!” His shoulders shook with his laughter. “And if you like my eyes… it’s a color that runs in my family.” His amusement died slightly. “It is actually called Pendragon Blue, because only those with our blood have these color eyes. I am the only one in my family who has it in this generation though.” He frowned and sighed, all amusement gone as his gaze shifted to Merlin. “Merlin, if I am going to be honest with you, the reason I am here is for you. One day, when you are older, I want to take you away with me.” _

_ “Where?” Merlin asked, intrigued and excited at the thought of getting to see somewhere other than his home. _

_ “To my home,” Aurelius informed him, expression determined. “To  **your** home. Your  **true** home.” He took in a deep breath. “When you are old enough, I want to take you with me when I return victoriously to Camelot.” _

_ “Camelot?” Merlin had heard the name before, but only in whispered conversations between his parents and godfather. “That is where my family used to live before, right? Where grandfather died?” _

_ Aurelius nodded with a sigh as he reached out and grabbed Merlin’s hands. “A grave injustice was done to your family, Merlin, but one day I am going to right the wrong that was done. One day I am going to fix things.” He tightened his grip on Merlin’s hands. “And when I do that, when I am victorious, will you come with me?” He stared into Merlin’s eyes. “Will you come to Camelot with me?” _

_ Merlin blushed darkly as he stared into the beautiful face staring at him in supplication. “Can we get married if I do?” _

_ Those lips twitched. “I am too old for you, Merlin.” _

_ “My father is ten years older than my mother,” he pointed out. “And grandfather looked much older than that to you.” He pursed his lips. “Plus, my godfather told me that in Mercia age difference in partners is normal and encouraged because that way the older one can help train and guide the younger one.” He shifted closer so his knees touched Aurelius softly. “So, how I see it, if dad had to marry mom to bring her here, you should have to marry me to take me there. It only seems proper that way.” _

_ A snicker escaped Aurelius’ head. “How about this then? If, for some reason, you still want to marry me when you’re older, we’ll talk about it.” _

_ “You don’t sound like you think I will,” Merlin mumbled as he narrowed his eyes at Aurelius accusingly. “I might be young but I’ve decided, I am going to marry you.” He let go of one of Aurelius’ hands so he could use it to point at him in determination. “I really like your eyes. I will come to like the rest of you too.” _

_ Aurelius snickered and shook his head. “Are you not going to ask  **why** I want you to come to Camelot with me?” _

_ Merlin leaned back with a raised eyebrow. “You can tell me once we are married.” He eyed the older blonde in appreciation, for he truly was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his young life, and he was somewhat awed at just how beautiful another human being could be. “My godfather says that men cannot have babies together, that that is why men tup with women, but that is a pity. I really like your eyes.” He nodded. “We would have very pretty children together.” _

_ “You are  **too** precocious,” Aurelius declared with a shake of his head. _

_ “I already knew that,” a voice declared in mirth to their sides, drawing their attention to see Balinor and Tauren standing there. Balinor, the one who had spoken, eyed them in amusement. “So what were you two talking about?” _

_ “Father.” Merlin turned to his father, expression very serious. “I have made a decision and want you to be the first to know: I am going to marry Aurelius.” _

_ Aurelius facepalmed in embarrassment as he shook his head. “I want it noted for all that I have yet to agree to that.” _

_ Tauren stared at them blankly. _

_ Balinor, on the other hand, snickered in amusement, completely ignoring Aurelius. “Is that so, son?” _

_ “Yes.” Merlin nodded, very relieved his father was taking him seriously. “He is going to be my wife.” _

_ “Again,  **I** should have some say in this!” Aurelius declared as he let his hand fall from his face in disbelief. _

_ Balinor was bravely trying to hide his mirth yet failing horribly as he bent on his knees next to them. “You sure about this, son? You won’t be able to have children if you are with him. I know we have yet to have the talk, but only girls can have babies, and despite what his face might lead you to believe—-” _

_ “ **BALINOR**!” Aurelius gasped in horror. _

_ “—-he is actually a boy,” Balinor continued on, still ignoring Aurelius. _

_ “I know,” Merlin replied with a nod. “But I like his eyes.” _

_ “Ahhhhhhhhh, I see.” Balinor nodded in understanding. “If that is the case there’s nothing to be done about it then.” He reached out and patted Aurelius’ shoulder. “Welcome to the family, daughter.” _

_ “I swear, you are—-,” Aurelius begun poutily. _

_ Balinor snickered and stood. “Come now, Hunith is calling us for lunch.” He helped Aurelius up before his eyes widened as they started walking back to the house. “And I found father’s medallion, it is—-.” _

_ Merlin hurriedly stumbled to his feet and was about to head after them when his godfather’s hand fell heavily on his shoulder. He looked up at that incredibly blank face in curiosity. “Is something wrong?” _

_ Tauren stared down at him, his grip on his shoulder tightening until it was painful. _

_ “That hurts!” Merlin slapped his grip away in surprise as he rubbed his throbbing shoulder in confusion. “What is wrong, godfather?” _

_ “Do not think that I do not know what you are doing, Merlin,” Tauren declared in a low, surprisingly displeased tone. “You? Marry him?” He sneered. “Do not make me laugh. That will  **never** happen.” _

_ “Why not?” Merlin pursed his lips in displeasure that his godfather clearly did not think he was good enough to marry someone as pretty as Aurelius. He ignored Aurelius and Balinor as they turned the corner and disappeared from sight, instead keeping his attention on Tauren. “He said he would consider it.” _

_ “Of course he would, he is a promiscuous little hole,” Tauren informed him darkly. “He is the reason that your grandfather was murdered.” He leaned in, voice low, dangerous. “You never got to meet your grandfather because  **that whore** could not keep his legs together. You should not want to marry him, you should hate him. He has managed to convince your mother and father that he is not to blame, but he is a black widow, and now he has his eyes set on you because killing  **one** Dragonlord was not enough for him.” _

_ Merlin frowned, not quite understanding, but realizing his godfather was insulting Aurelius. “Do not talk about him like that. He loved grandfather, I could see that.” _

_ “Merlin, have I not always been on your side and protected you? Treated you like an adult when everyone else patronizes and belittles you to your face? And yet you turn on me because of a pretty face? Are you weak? Merlin?” _

_ The boy blinked. “I am not… weak.” _

_ “Are you stupid?” _

_ “No.” He shook his head. _

_ “And yet you are  **acting** weak  **and** stupid, do you know how humiliating it was to watch you just now? I do not know how Balinor managed to keep his face from showing what must have been mortification… shame.” _

_ Merlin frowned in confusion and hurt. Had he been acting weak and stupid? Just because he wanted to marry Aurelius? Had his father really been ashamed? _

_ “And anyway, it is showing your grandfather great disrespect.” _

_ He could… he could see that, he guessed. “Then I’ll have to make a different Pendragon my wife then,” Merlin decided, figuring that would solve the issue. “I really like his eyes but he says only those of his family have it so I’ll have to marry—-.” His eyes widened as in seconds his godfather had him by the front of the shirt and yanked him close angrily. “What—? Why are you so angry?” _

_ Tauren’s face was twisted in an ugly look Merlin had never seen on his godfather’s face before, but then he breathed in and out slowly and let go of his grip on Merlin’s shirt, smoothening out any wrinkles. “I apologize, Merlin, but when it comes to your future I become…  **impassioned**. You are my godson, and I may take my right to protect you a little too…  **instinctually**. Please forgive me. Scaring you is the last thing I would ever want, you know that you are the most important person in my life, do you not?” _

_ Merlin’s heart raced a little but he told himself off for having feared his godfather, even if only for a second. “I understand that, yes.” He forced a smile on his face, telling himself off for the momentary nausea that had assailed him. _

_ “And you know that I only want what’s best for you,” Tauren pressed. _

_ This time it was easier to smile and nod. “Of course.” _

_ “So you must trust that I know what I am saying.” Tauren brushed some hair out of Merlin’s face. “So I assume this means you realize your preference is for males.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or is it just for beauty?” _

_ Merlin blinked, not really having wondered about that before. _

_ Tauren must have realized that because he pressed on without waiting for a reply. “Do not trust beautiful people, Merlin. They use their looks to get ahead in life, like Aurelius did with your grandfather and is trying to do with you. What matters is power. If you want a true partnership you need to find someone who can not only match your power, but augment it. Otherwise you will just be yet another weak man who is led around by his dick.” _

_ An embarrassed chuckle escaped Merlin’s lips. “Led around by his dick.” And yet the laughter choked when his godfather… grabbed him… down there. His eyes widened as he froze, staring up at Tauren in shock. “What—-?” _

_ “This is what that means.” Tauren replied evenly, face not betraying the movement of his hands as he kept Merlin’s scared gaze with his. “A weak man is one who lets the pleasure he gets from  **this** part of him rule him and his actions. In that way your father is  **incredibly** weak, but I am going to make sure that you do not become weak like that, Merlin.” _

_ “I—I don’t l-like—-,” Merlin stuttered as he tried to push the hand away. _

_ “That’s not what  **this** says,” his godfather informed him with a disappointed shake of his head, as if Merlin was letting him down, was failing him. “ **This** part of you is saying you’re as weak as your father, Merlin.  **This** part says that I am going to have to go out of my way to try and teach you, to rid you of your weakness. I’m really disappointed in you, Merlin, I expected better from you, I expected you to be stronger.” _

_ “I’m—I’m  **sorry** ,” Merlin apologized, feeling scared and confused and yet also terrified at the thought of disappointing his godfather, the person he looked up to the most. “I—I don’t want to be weak, I  **swear**!” _

_ “I know.” HIs godfather assured him as his movement grew quicker, his wrist twisting and fingers… “Do not worry, it is not your fault, it was how you were raised. But I will make you strong, Merlin.” His eyes were determined. “I will weed out every weakness from you until you are the strongest Dragonlord that has ever existed. You want that, don’t you? You want to be strong? Want to be the best version of yourself that you can be? Want to grow up into someone I can be proud of?” When Merlin wouldn’t look at him he gripped him, hard, forcing the pained boy to do so. “ **Or do you just want to be another weak, stupid, disgusting man? Do you NOT care about disappointing me?** ” _

_ Merlin shook his head, eyes wide in fear. _

_ “WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?” Balinor could be heard laughing close by. _

_ Tauren let go and instead slammed his palm into Merlin’s forehead while staring into his eyes as his own flashed with magic. “I never touched you, we talked and you decided you no longer have any interest in marrying Aurelius or anyone else. When he leaves you will slowly yet surely forget he was ever here, will let his memory fade from your mind.” _

_ “B-but…” Merlin’s body went lax and he swayed, only getting caught by Tauren and righted right before he hit the ground. The boy brought a hand to his head and whimpered. “Did I trip or something?” _

_ Tauren nodded. “You need to pay better attention.” _

_ “I know,” Merlin mumbled with a sigh before he made a face. “How do I tell Aurelius I am not going to marry him anymore? He might get hurt.” _

_ “Just leave it for now,” Tauren assured him as Balinor peeked his head around the corner. _

_ “There you two are!” Balinor chuckled, looking a little bemused. “Why are you still here?” _

_ “I have decided not to marry Aurelius,” Merlin informed his father with a sheepish smile. “It would be disrespectful to grandfather Myrddin.” _

_ “Oh well, I am sure Aurelius will find some way to mend his broken heart at the news,” Balinor snickered and motioned them to follow. “Come on now. Your mother is famished.” _

_ Merlin followed, feeling like he was forgetting something important, but shaking his head of the foggy questions. He followed his godfather’s advice and did not bring up the engagement during the rest of Aurelius’ visit, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring longingly at those eyes. They truly were beautiful eyes. _

* * *

Arthur had been in battle before, the battle against Mercia, the one which Camelot had lost and which had ended up in him being taken prisoner and had started this whole situation. He had thought the Mercians terrifying back then, but they were even fiercer now, and as he fought by their side he could not help but be grateful that he was fighting on the same side. Despite being horribly outnumbered, the Mercians, Escetians, Caerlonians and those of Camelot were — there was no word that could explain the monstrous ferocity, the bloodlust as they tore through their adversaries yet clearly hungered for more.

Excalibur in hand, Arthur fought, yet he was conscientious of it. They were fighting people form Camelot, his people, and he did not want to kill his own people - people who might be being forced into fighting him. It was why he had wanted, needed, the amnesty, and yet it had not been extended, and that distracted and worried him in battle.

Another thing that worried and distracted him was that Tauren was no where to be seen. Aurelius was fighting his way to Arthur just like Arthur was to the one clearly wearing the royal armor.

A yell very close behind him startled Arthur into twirling on his heel to see a man who had been racing up behind Arthur collapse to the ground, spasming, before another and another all around began to fall. Darkness rained down from the sky like lightning, piercing through the bodies of their enemies and causing them to drop immediately, their bodies twisting and shaking as the darkness visibly infected them, crawling up their veins and infesting their whole bodies.

Arthur looked upwards, at the top of the hill, where Merlin remained alone. The darkness flew out of him, attacking those below, causing more and more to collapse in battle. Five sorcerers raced up the hill at Merlin, throwing spell after spell at him, and while their spells failed to hit darkness raced out of him, piercing through them and dropping all five simultaneously on the ground, causing their erratically twitching bodies to tumble back down the hill.

Feeling Excalibur burn, Arthur followed its orders, swinging it around and upwards, only barely managing to stop the slice of the blade down at him as he found himself face to face with his uncle. While he had never met his uncle before, he had seen portraits of him hidden away in the room his father never spoke of, and knew of him from the various times the mercenaries or assassins he’d either hired or coerced into his employ had tried to take the life of Arthur’s father.

“Uncle,” Arthur snarled as he turned his attention from Merlin onto the man who was responsible for his father and mother’s deaths, for Morgana’s child’s. “We finally meet.” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “I am going to kill you for all you have done.”

“You can try,” his uncle replied with a smirk. He looked younger than Arthur had expected him to, and despite his slighter frame he was clearly strong and had trained in battle. “But tonight I will finally right the wrongs that have been committed by our family, tonight, nephew, you and I both will die upon this battlefield. But while I _will_ die this night, it will not be by _your_ hands, whelp.”

Shock and confusion filled Arthur as he dodged the slice and parried. “We _both_ will die?” He did not understand that at all. Even as they fought his mind was whirling with questions as his confusion reigned. “If you plan on killing me tonight, why do _you_ expect to die as well?” He side-stepped a stab of the blade and twirled, slamming Excalibur into the swinging sharpness, shoving it away from him.

“You would not understand, nephew,” his uncle assured him with a snarl. “I don’t blame you though for being the way you are, you are just like your father. I had hoped—-I had _prayed_ —-that you might be different, but you turned out _exactly_ like him.” Fury burned in his eyes as he attacked more viciously, forcing Arthur to take rapid steps back even as he fought. “And that means you’re just another chain around his neck that I need to break!”

A couple of fighters fell between them, separating them, and while Arthur and Aurelius glared at each other they were both assailed by others and had to turn to their new opponents. Arthur grit his teeth, shifting his hold on Excalibur and swinging it around, chopping the head off of the man who’d come between him and his uncle, watching that head tumble on the ground as his body quickly followed after. Behind him, through the spray of gushing blood, Aurelius jumped through, his sword meeting Excalibur’s once more with demonic fury.

Nearly stumbling, Arthur caught his footing and parried his uncle’s blows, his words, his actions, throbbing distracting in his head. “ _Whose_ chains are you breaking?” When his uncle didn’t answer, merely attacked him harder, Arthur could barely keep up with the blows and yet, as he quickly went over the dead - the targeted - his eyes widened in shock. “ _Merlin_? You want to break _Merlin’s_ chains?” He stared at his uncle in confusion. “How were _my parents_ or Morgana’s _child_ chains!?”

“The same way _you_ are, although not as dangerous,” Aurelius explained with a vicious smile. “Your father had Merlin’s grandfather _murdered_ ,” he snarled, “and then thanks to _him_ , the rest of Merlin’s family were not only exiled, but they were hunted down and _killed_ because your father and men were afraid of any retribution they might try to bring upon Camelot for what they did to them! _Our family_ is the reason _his_ is near extinct!”

Arthur’s eyes widened in horror. “ _You’re lying_.”

Aurelius laughed, twirling his blade before attacking in a different style, nearly catching Arthur off guard enough to swing Excalibur away - _nearly_. “Oh, I see how you have fooled him with your acting skills, nephew, but it will take a little more than that to fool _me_. You forget, I was taught the exact same things you were, I know where to look for. And the way you managed to fool him, to get back in his good graces after trying to _kill_ him… I know better than to underestimate _you_.” He sneered. “In fact, it’s precisely _that_ which made me realize I had to step out, I had to kill you, because _he wouldn’t_. And if you live, he will _never_ be what he was meant to be.”

Fury filled Arthur as he fought back. “I am sick and tired of you and everyone else trying to push your own agenda on him!”

Aurelius laughed in utter derision as he easily blocked Arthur’s blows. “Says the one wielding a sword which should by right be only Merlin’s, says the one who has used his hole to assure Merlin will give him back Camelot should you win. If _anyone_ is using Merlin to selfishly get whatever they want, nephew, it’s _you_.” His laughter turned to a snarl. “And I cannot allow that to happen. I have killed the king who _dared_ bind him to his will, the child who he would feel obliged to protect and serve out of misplaced, _brainwashed_ , duty. I have killed the family that has most done his ill, and tonight, when I kill you, your druid brother, the ogre who believes himself king… once the men I have sent to the castle have killed your sister… I will have given Merlin what he needs. I will have _finally_ righted the wrong.”

“What are you _saying_?” Arthur snapped in fury. “Are you _mad_? What do you think you are accomplishing by killing everyone he cares about? By breaking him so cruelly like that? How _dare_ you pretend you are doing this _for him!_ ”

“I am not breaking him!” Aurelius snarled viciously as he attacked harder, almost manically. “I am giving him back the kingdom that should have always been his!”

Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. “ _What_?”

“That blade that you hold so dearly? _That_ accursed sword was to blame for their downfall. Camelot, Mercia, Escetia— _Albion_ —this was _all_ THEIRS.” Aurelius flung his hands out. “Albion was _peaceful_ , was in communion with the supernatural, when the Dragonlords ruled as they always should have! But once _that accursed blade_ destroyed them warlords sprung up, dividing a land that should never have been divided, claiming kingship, pig farmers suddenly proclaiming themselves kings! But _none_ were are traitorous as _we_ , as the Sons of the Dragon, as the _villein_ of the Dragonlords! Not only did we think ourselves their masters, but we _slaughtered_ them when…” Aurelius’ voice broke as anger and fury and despair filled his face, his eyes. “I will right our wrongs, nephew. Tonight, Myrddin will _finally_ be avenged and when the dust settles, and the blood soaks into the ground, Albion will be in _shambles_.” He smiled brightly, tears gathering in his eyes. “Tonight, when Merlin kills me, when he destroys the grand villain of this story, when he saves Albion and sets its people free, Albion will turn to him, will turn to their savior, and only _then_ will the reparation finally be able to start. Only once Albion is joined, once it returns to its rightful ruler, will the Endless Orchards stop withering… for should they die, Albion will wither with them.”

Arthur stared at his uncle in absolute shock. _That_ was why his uncle had killed all those of royal blood, why he had decimated kingdom after kingdom in his wake, why he had been cruel and vicious, taking children and forcing parents into servitude. Everything he had done, all the pain he had caused, had been purposely done so as to make himself the villain of the story, to become a monster that the people hated and feared, which would make his killer… would make his killer Albion’s _savior_. All the lives that had been destroyed, all the pain that had been caused, had been for _this reason,_ and Arthur was finding it hard to wrap his head around it.

“I love him,” Arthur told his uncle with no heat whatsoever.

Aurelius faltered for a second before he snarled and shook his head. “Sure you do, boy. You love him. _That_ is why you conspired with your High Priestess to continue your father’s work and kill the Dragonlord Heir. _That_ is why you worked alongside your father to embed your sister and your brother into not only his bed but in the bed of the man who enslaved his will. _That_ is why you conspired with your father to bring the downfall of Mercia and _enslave_ Merlin for yourself. _That_ is why the second your brother was gone from court - putting your hold over Merlin in jeopardy - you somehow manipulated your way back into his bed and used _him_ to protect you. _That_ is why you claimed ownership of the accursed blade that has already proven to be the downfall of his kind, and you brandish it with arrogance and entitlement. _That_ is why you use him to get your kingdom back to you. _That_ is why you come into battle yet leave him alone to fight by himself while you seek the glory of killing the monster on your own.” His sneer was derisive. “Because _you love him_.” He shook his head. “Believe me, when I had heard rumors of your relationship with Merlin I had hoped - I had _prayed_ to the Old Gods - _begging_ for your supposed feelings for him to be genuine, for you to truly love that boy, but _everything_ you have _ever_ done has proven to me that the only one you love _is yourself_.” He smiled darkly, viciously. “No wonder Uther was so proud of you. You are _just_ like him.”

“You know _nothing_ about our relationship or what we have had to go through to get where we are right now!” Arthur snarled as he attacked, this time on the offensive as he swung and stabbed. “I did not conspire with Nimueh to kill Merlin - _I did not want to return home_ \- when I thought he was dead I wanted to die too!” He continued on the advance, Excalibur burning a dark glow he had never seen before. “I did not put Mordred in his bed - that was my father, I wanted to _kill_ _them both_ for that, but  _especially_ Mordred for claiming a place that should have never stopped being _mine_! The _only_ reason I plotted with my father to overthrow Mercia was because it was the _only_ way I could have Merlin as my own! He’d _never_ be mine if he were bound to Bayard while I was just as bound to my damned title!”

Aurelius’ blue eyes widened slowly as tried desperately to block Arthur’s blows while backing away. All around them more and more bodies began to collapse as darkness shot into them viciously, dropping them to the ground in uncontrollable spasms.

“The second Mordred left the court I did not _manipulate_ my way back into Merlin’s bed out of a desire to be protected… with Mordred finally out of the way I was able to _take back my mate!_ ” Arthur hissed viciously as he turned on a soldier who dared come between him and his uncle, making such short work of him that even Arthur was surprised when the man collapsed to the ground, dead. His eyes met his uncle’s as he advanced on him once more, furious, bloodthirsty. “I did not _claim ownership_ of this blade.” Arthur twisted the Dragonblade between them in the air so the glowing runes on both his arm and the blade were completely visible. “I _detested_ it, it nearly cost me _him_! He pushed me away because of the trials this blade put him through! He gave it to me and he sent me away!” Even now it infuriated Arthur to remember what had happened, what he had nearly lost. “I _abandoned_ this blade and I went after him! And even _then_ it was almost impossible to get him to see through the folly! I _hated_ this blade for what it nearly cost me! The _only_ reason I was forced to come to terms with it, to _accept_ it, was because Merlin made it clear that if I did not he would not allow me to come into battle with him and I would _not_ let him come here without me!” He shifted his hold again, the blade clanging loudly against Aurelius’. “The only good thing that came from accepting this blade are _these runes_ , the ones that connect me with Merlin, that prove that we are bound to each other by more than just sorcerer magic. His Dragonlord magic accepts me too.”

More and more bodies collapsed around them, the battlefield slowly becoming a wasteland of darkness and epileptic fits.

“I never asked Merlin to give me Camelot, he told me Camelot would not be mine, that he would win the war and give it to Bayard, _and I accepted_ that,” Arthur informed Aurelius darkly, coldly. “And while I will admit that a part of me was somewhat hurt, a much larger part of me did not _care_ as long as I had Merlin. _He_ is the most important person in my life, and ever since I got him back I have bound him to me in any way I could think of - making myself his sole lover, his Consort, his mate, and once this is over, I will be his _wife_.” He pressed on, ignoring the utterly shocked expression beginning to take over Aurelius’ face as his uncle’s fighting grew sloppier and sloppier by the second. “ _That_ is why I came here and left him on the hilltop. Up there he is safer, but _you_ are down here, and you are part of the biggest threat to my having him, my _keeping_ him. That is why I am here, I am here to kill you, uncle, and once you are dead I can concentrate on finding where that monster of yours is hiding, and then I’ll kill him too. I am going to kill you now, uncle, not just for what you did to my parents, but for trying to tear Merlin and I apart, _and_ for teaming up with his abuser.”

“Abuser? _What are you talking about_?” Aurelius faltered and tripped up over one of the spasming bodies, falling and losing hold of his sword.

Arthur trained Excalibur against Aurelius’ chest. 

“ARTHUR!” Sophia’s voice caught his attention but he refused to look away from Aurelius and give him a chance to either disappear into the crowd or reach for his sword once more. “ARTHUR! I KNOW WHERE TAUREN IS!” She stumbled next to him, eyes wide in terror as she grabbed Arthur’s arm. “He’s inside Merlin!”

Arthur’s face turned ashen as he turned away from his uncle immediately to face her. “ _What_?”

“The darkness—he’s got into Merlin that way, that’s why his magic is—!” Sophia looked towards Merlin before turning to Arthur. “He’s doing something to Merlin, Arthur! He shut his mind off from his body. You have to do something! You have to help him!”

Excalibur disappeared from Arthur’s grip as he pressed that hand against his solar plexus, forgetting all about his uncle. _Take me to Merlin,_ he ordered the magics within him. _TAKE ME TO MERLIN!_

And then there was pain, and he was gone.

…

…

…

Arthur opened his eyes to find that he was not on the hilltop, but instead was facing the front door of some ancestral manor. He frowned, looked around, and then tried the front door, which opened with a groan. Inside was nothing but darkness. This could very well be a trap, yet Arthur steeled himself as he stepped through the door, and then suddenly lights were all around him, proving the inside of the room was pure glass, and from each of the four walls the same horrifying vision was being played.

**_Merlin stood on his tiptoes on an ottoman, his hands gripping the edge of the mantle, the hand clenched in his hair forcing his head up so he could not look away from the portrait of Balinor, Hunith, and himself._ **

**_Behind him, Tauren groaned as he clenched his asscheeks, forcing himself deeper within with each rough thrust. “Look at what you destroyed, Merlin. Look at how happy they were. They didn’t know what they were raising, didn’t know the sort of monster they had in their own homes. Didn’t know it would end up killing them.” He shivered in cruel delight. “If only they had known you were nothing more than the changeling - the monster - who stole their true son’s life. If only they knew you were nothing more than a deformed abomination. Maybe they would be alive today. Maybe you would not have destroyed - and ended - their lives.”_ **

**_Merlin stared up at the portrait, face unnaturally blank as tears fell endlessly from his eyes._ **

“STOP IT!” Arthur yelled at the top of his lungs as Excalibur appeared in his hands, and without even really thinking of it Arthur took the blade to the glass walls, shattering them, and the images within them, to pieces, revealing a hidden passageway behind what had once been walls. “MERLIN!” He hurried through it, coming out the other side to instead find himself in yet another room with yet another horrible vision.

**_Merlin lay on his side in a dark room, facing a mirror. He had shifted to his true form and was staring at himself blankly, brokenly, in the reflection._ **

**_The sun rose and fell in the window behind him, and at evening time Tauren looked in, saw him in his true form, and then locked the door behind him._ **

**_The sun rose and fell once more, with Merlin not moving, not looking away from his reflection. Once more at dusk Tauren looked in, and when he saw Merlin in his true form he locked him inside once more._ **

It was on the fourth rising and setting of the sun that Arthur realized in horror that not only hadn’t Merlin moved, but he had not been given food or water.

**_Finally, on the fifth, Merlin - weak from starvation - collapsed, and when he did his body returned to its human disguise. This time, when Tauren peered in, he closed the door, but soon returned with water, which he gave the boy, scolding him for being such a badly behaved monster. He removed his pants, Merlin’s, and continued to tell Merlin horrible things while rocking his body with his._ **

**_Like all those days, Merlin just stared at his own reflection, utterly broken._ **

Arthur broke these glasses more violently than the previous ones, disgust and horror filling him as he stormed through the next revealed secret passage way to a new room, displaying yet a new horrifying truth as he learnt that, during that year, should Merlin wish to eat he would have to ‘perform’ before each meal before finally being allowed to eat afterwards.

The next room revealed the spell keeping Merlin from ever being able to leave the house even if he had wanted to.

The next room revealed that Merlin had been forced to sleep in the same bed as Tauren, with the only times he did not sleep there being the ones in which he had shifted to his true form and was thrown into that dark room to starve his true self away.

The next room showed people coming to visit the house, talking to Tauren, praising him for taking in 'such an unfriendly, impolite child', one he had had no true obligation to take in. These people shook their heads disapprovingly at the silent child who would not answer their questions, would not engage in their conversations, never knowing that deep inside, behind that blank and aloof expression, the true Merlin was screaming - and pleading - for their help.

The next room revealed the fact that not only had there been sexual abuse, but mental and emotional. Never was there a time in which Tauren did not blame Merlin’s parents’ deaths on him, did not hesitate to tell him how he was a monster who hurt all those around him, that anyone who loved him was doomed to misery and the best thing he could do if he cared for someone was to leave them. Tauren assured Merlin he was a plague, that he destroyed everything, and that Tauren was the only one who could understand him, could handle him, could keep him from hurting the innocent around him.

The next room displayed that on some of the darker nights, Tauren would take Merlin while seated, pinning the boy on his lap between his body and the table so there was no escape. Tauren would keep his large palm wrapped over Merlin's eyes, forcing him to re-live his parents' murder and hexing over and over again in a continuous, unending loop. Even as he did so, Tauren's other hand would be pressed to Merlin's solar plexus, feeling the tiny dragon trapped within roaring in agony. Its pain - and the darkness that grew - made his pleasured smile vicious.

The next room and the next and the next revealed more and more to Arthur, gave him a view into that year of Merlin’s life, and the many reasons Merlin not only was physically sick whenever he dreamt of it, but did not want to speak of - acknowledge had happened. Each subsequent room - and each horror they revealed - hardened Arthur’s resolve, his murderous intentions.

And then he found him.

Merlin was there in the next room, young Merlin - still in his true form - but he wasn’t being played back like a vision on the walls. He sat in the middle of the room, scrunched in on himself, hands to his ears, shaking his head and sobbing.

“ _You’re the reason Arthur’s family were murdered,”_ Tauren’s voice echoed off of the walls, hitting him almost physically. “ _Aurelius did that for_ ** _you_** _. Arthur went through that pain and suffering because of_ ** _you_** _.”_

Merlin continued shaking his head roughly, his breath shaky. “ _No_.”

“ ** _YOU_** _did that to Arthur._ ** _YOU_** _, Merlin,”_ Tauren hissed viciously. “ _You keep hurting everyone you love. Bayard died because of_ ** _YOU_** _. What happened to your parents was because of **YOU.** Arthur is an orphan - is homeless - watched his parents be murdered - because of _**_YOU_** _.”_

_“_ ** _No_** _!”_ Merlin hiccuped his sobs.

“ _He’s going to hate you when he finds out what you have done,”_ Tauren whispered tauntingly. “ _All of his love for you is going to turn into hatred, and you will deserve it all_.”

“ _I didn’t know!”_ Merlin screamed as he shook his head so hard it must hurt. “I didn’t remember! You took those memories! I didn’t remember! I didn’t know! I never would have— _-!_ ”

“ _Your love is a curse, Merlin, because monsters can’t love, not really, they only claim and destroy. You have claimed him, and now you are destroying Arthur... and when he finds out everything that you are responsible for, when he discovers that all of his pain and suffering can be linked back to you and what you have done, he will_ ** _hate_** _you.”_

Merlin curled tighter in on himself.

“ _You can win this war, win every war, but you will never be able to give him back what_ ** _you_** _took from him, and he will_ —-!”

“SHUT UP!” Arthur screamed furiously. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Merlin jolted at the sound of Arthur's voice and looked up at him, his blue eyes seeming bluer with how red his whites were. His face was wet with tears and streaked with red, his expression scrunched in agony, in terror. “I didn’t know,” he whispered tearfully, “Arthur, Arthur _I didn’t know_. I—. **_Please don’t hate me_** ,” he begged, his voice breaking. “ _Please don’t hate me -_ ** _I didn’t know_**.”

“Stop _listening_ to him, Merlin!” Arthur entered the room and knelt down in front of the frightened child and truly, _truly_ , understood what made Merlin the way he was - had seen the year of utter shattering he had gone through. “Merlin, I _know_ their deaths aren’t your fault. I _know_ that. And you need to trust me more than this.”

“ _That’s what he’s saying now,”_ Tauren hissed in disgusted mocking. “ _He needs you still, Merlin, he needs to win the war so he can get back the kingdom_ ** _you_** _lost him. He’d say anything to get it back, and once he does, he’ll_ —.”

“I TOLD YOU TO **SHUT UP**!” Arthur snarled at the ‘ceiling’ as that seemed to be where the voice was coming from. He then turned to Merlin and scooted closer, trying to catch the eye of this avatar of Merlin’s inner self, too worried to touch him when he was in this state, even though all he wanted to do right now was to wrap his arms around Merlin and hold him tightly. “I had my uncle on the ground, without his sword, vulnerable, completely ready to be killed, but I didn’t kill him. **He** **and Tauren** killed my parents, Merlin, **not you**. So do you want to know **why** I did not kill my uncle when I had the chance?”

Merlin hesitated for a moment before he slowly looked back up at him in fear yet obvious intrigue. “ _Why_?”

“Because, idiot cambion, my mate’s in trouble,” Arthur whispered to him with a small, encouraging smile. “We’ve both lost everything, Merlin, we cannot lose each other as well. Especially not because of someone like Tauren.” He held Merlin’s gaze resolutely. “Merlin, you’re not a monster, _he is_.” His voice cracked at the memories he’d seen, and he looked away so he could wipe his eyes before returning his gaze to Merlin, finding the small boy watching him. “ _You’re not a monster, Merlin_. **You’re not a monster**.”

Tears were filling Merlin’s eyes as he hugged himself tighter.

Tauren’s voice laughed darkly. “ _You know he’s lying, Merlin. You’re a monster. Just look at your hideous true form. A monster. Nothing but a monster_. _No one could ever truly love you. Not a murderer, a destroyer, like you._ ”

Merlin stared up at Arthur. “Please don’t hate me.” His voice cracked as tears fell down his face. “I didn’t know.”

“I _know_ you didn’t, you idiot.” Arthur finally gave into his desires and reached out, wrapping his arms around the terrified, crying child, and pulled him into a tight embrace as he hid his face in Merlin’s hair. The child was frozen, clearly not used to being touched in this form, and the realization made Arthur’s voice crack painfully. “I don’t hate you, Merlin. I don’t blame you. You’re not a monster. I love you.” He held onto the shivering boy tighter. “I love you.” And tighter. “I love you.” Pressed kisses to his hair. “I love you.”

“ _He’s lying, Merlin!_ ” Tauren yelled, a hint of panic in his tone. “ _Don’t listen to him! You’re unlovable! He’s just using you_!”

Merlin trembled in Arthur’s embrace before slowly raising his own arms and wrapping them tightly around Arthur as well, holding him so roughly it hurt. His fingertips dug deep into Arthur's back, as if terrified someone was about to tear them apart, or that Arthur himself was about to change his mind and try to push him away.

“ _MERLIN!_ ” Tauren’s voice was a loud boom. “ _MERLIN! YOU ARE NOT AN IDIOT! YOU ARE NOT WEAK! YOU_ ** _KNOW_** _HE IS USING YOU! HE IS LYING! YOU KNOW—!”_

“ **I love you** ,” Arthur whispered adoringly into his hair, his hands rubbing Merlin's back soothingly while he angled his neck to offer it instinctively. His eyes closed tightly and a shiver of delight raced down his spine when he felt Merlin's nose press against the skin offered up, the cambion greedily, desperately, breathing in Arthur's scent. The prince wondered whether his lover had realized yet that whenever Merlin needed calming he did this, as if Arthur's scent was the greatest source of tranquility and relaxation he knew of.

“ _—DAMNED SINCE THE MOMENT YOU WERE BORN! YOU WILL NEVER—!_ ”

Arthur brushed his cheek tenderly against Merlin’s hair, trying to relay not just with his voice but his body that Merlin did not have to be scared, that he should stop shivering and just let all the dark emotions causing him to shake so uncontrollably go. Then again, Merlin  _had_ just been doused with a terrifying amount of darkness during the ritual - and it was no doubt fueling this horrible event. Merlin needed to release some of the darkness, needed to let Arthur filter it out of him. “Let’s end this battle quickly so we can go back to camp and I can remind you just how much I love you in _every_ form.”

“— _YOUR DARK MAGIC—-!”_

“That’s it, my love,” Arthur whispered encouragingly into his hair, feeling the shivers and sobs slowly dying as the boy relaxed a little more in his embrace with every breath he took.

“ _—-YOU TOOK HIS FAMILY FROM HIM! YOU MADE HIM AN ORPHAN! HE WILL NEVER TRULY FORGIVE YOU! YOU ARE FOOLING YOURSELF IF YOU THINK HE DOES NOT HATE YOU! YOU—.”_

“ _You’re_ my family.”

Merlin pushed away immediately and his wide-eyed gaze rose to meet Arthur’s, his black eyes impossibly large, his lips parted, his skin still incredibly pallid yet a flush started to tint his cheeks. He gulped loudly, his throat visibly working with the action, and when he spoke, his voice was incredibly tiny, hopeful, hoarse, and vulnerable. “ _I am_?”

“ _LISTEN TO ME, MERLIN!_ ** _LISTEN TO ME_** _!”_

Arthur stared into those wide, hopeful eyes, and nodded as his heart clenched tightly, painfully. How he wished he could have met Merlin when they were younger, if they had, he would have spent his life convincing Merlin just how important - how loved - he was to Arthur. “I’m a little insulted you have to ask." He tilted his head and smiled teasingly as he asked: "Are you my mate or not?”

Merlin’s lips twitched in a small hint of amusement.

“ **LISTEN TO ME! LISTEN TO ME!!!!!”**

“Yes,” Merlin whispered, gaze angling up shyly at Arthur as he shifted a little closer on his own and reached out to clasp Arthur's tunic in an incredibly adorable way. “ _My mate_.”

“Your Consort,” Arthur reminded, greatly encouraged by this small action on his mate's part.

“ **MERLIN**!”

The corner’s of Merlin’s lips curled slightly, his expression even shyer than before. “My love.”

“Your wife,” Arthur pushed on then admittedly pressed his luck, hoping he didn't spook his love as he leaned in towards Merlin, bringing their faces incredibly close. Emboldened when Merlin did not flinch or pull away, merely stared up at Arthur with a darkening blush, Arthur leaned in even closer, his voice lower as he whispered: " _Your home_."

“ **MERLIN LISTEN TO ME!** ”

His risk paid off when Merlin grinned up brightly at him in response to those last two words, the child looking very much as if - had he had a tail - it would be wagging right now. The cambion blushed even darker, causing a fascinating contrast as the demonic sigils on his skin seemed to lighten against his blush as if to still stand out against the dark hue.  Merlin looked the shyest he ever had and cleared his throat before saying with a little stutter: “My—my _family_.”

“ **GODS DAMN IT ALL! LISTEN TO ME, MERLIN! DO NOT BE WEAK! DO NOT BE—-**!”

“ _My_ family.” Arthur pressed his forehead against Merlin’s with a sigh of relief. 

“ **I WILL NOT BE IGNORED! YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME! YOU WILL—!”**

“Merlin.” Arthur kept his eyes closed. “Tell him to shut up.”

Merlin tightened his grip on Arthur and rubbed his forehead against his. “ _Shut up_.”

**“DO NOT BE LED BY YOUR DICK! MERLIN! DO NOT BE SO—!”**

“SHUT UP!” Merlin yelled, anger sounding in his voice as he looked up at the ceiling. “SHUT UP, TAUREN! I AM **DONE** LISTENING TO YOUR LIES AND FILTH! I AM **DONE** GIVING YOU POWER OVER MY LIFE!”

**“MERLIN! DO NOT DO THIS! MERLIN! I—**!”

Arthur’s eyes flew open as he felt Merlin shifting, his blue open in time to watch the child morph into the man. The blonde smile as he beheld his beloved once more. “Welcome back, my love.”

Merlin cupped Arthur’s face and swooped in, kissing him hungrily, desperately.

The blonde kissed him back just as needily, and then squeaked as he was pushed back onto the floor with his mate looming over him.

“ **MERLIN! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS YOU! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO—!”**

Magic erupted out of Merlin like a blast of black, the sounds of destruction echoing loudly around them yet Arthur did not pay attention to any of it as he kissed Merlin back. It was only when Merlin pulled away to smile down at him that Arthur was able to see that the manor had been destroyed and lay in a ruin of rubble and broken glass all around them.

Merlin pressed his forehead back against Arthur’s. “I am sorry about what happened to your parents.”

“I know you had nothing to do with that,” Arthur assured him softly. “Now let’s get back to the fight.” He gripped Merlin’s shirt tightly as he stared up into his mate’s eyes. “We have a sorcerer to kill very _very_ painfully.”

“As you wish,” Merlin whispered, and with an adoring kiss to his lips, they disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it took to get this uploaded. You see:
> 
> A - This chapter was oddly hard to write.
> 
> B - Work has been hell.
> 
> C - This chapter is a little longer :)

When Arthur opened his eyes once more, he and Merlin were no longer amidst that rubble and glass, but on the hilltop once more with the sounds of war occurring all around them, as in, on the hilltop as well as the valley below. The blonde accepted Merlin’s help to his feet in time to see that they were surrounded by warriors who were fending off the enemy who had apparently come after them while their minds had been trapped wherever it was that Tauren had trapped Merlin, and yet that was not truly what surprised Arthur, what _truly_ surprised Arthur was that many of the warriors protecting them from the enemy… _were_ the enemy.

They were not all those from Camelot either, which had been his first guess, in fact, most of them were _not_ from Camelot at all. The men fighting their own were from the different kingdoms Camelot had invaded, had taken over, people with no tie to either Arthur or Merlin, so _why_ were they fighting for them?

And then Arthur recognized one and froze. That was one of the men who the jolt of darkness had felled, one of the many who had been spasming on the battlefield the last that Arthur had seen him.

Blue eyes shifted over to the valley below and widened when the prince realized that while the valley had been overflowing with spasming bodies the last time he’d looked, there was not one to be seen, and from his vantage point it appeared as if there were more people fighting _for_ Mercia than there had been before.

Had—had the darkness…?

Arthur turned towards Merlin, eyes wide in shocked awe. How had Merlin done that? And all while he’d been trapped in his own mind?

Merlin must have felt his gaze on him, because his lover turned to him, and yet his expression quickly turned to horror as he reached out a hand towards Arthur, eyes flashing gold with magic. “Arthur!”

Despite the burst of magic racing towards him, Arthur turned his back on it, not fearing anything that came from Merlin, but fearing whatever had caused that look on his face. And yet as he turned on his heels, he only saw a split second of the red surge of magic racing towards him seconds before he was shoved to the ground viciously from the side. Arthur hit the ground painfully and looked up in time for blood to gush onto his face and chest, the young prince staring in shocked horror at the person who had pushed him out of the way of the magical attack and had taken the hit for him, the person who collapsed to his knees before falling face-first into the ground, the person with the _hole_ through him… at _his uncle_.

That scarlet magic that had pierced through Aurelius shifted and aimed at Arthur, yet before it could touch him Merlin’s magic inside of Arthur burst out, and like that night in Bayard’s room, it formed a shield over and around Arthur, protecting him from the scarlet, furious magic seconds before it could touch him. The scarlet enveloped the gold and green, leaving Arthur unable to see anything, but he could feel it, could feel the hatred, the anger, the disgust, the fury. This was Tauren, this was his utter hatred, his retaliation, for Arthur once more getting in the way of his plans for Merlin.

Merlin’s magic washed over the bubble his magic within Arthur had already formed tightly around Arthur, this new wave utterly washing the scarlet away from Arthur, removing the resentment, the jealousy, the fury and hatred, and instead showering Arthur was a sense of safety, tranquility, protection and devotion, love. The contrast between the feelings of the two magics was astounding, and even as Merlin’s magic drove Tauren’s back and away, driving it away from the blonde and back to its source, Arthur found himself turning his back once more on the danger in time for the bubble surrounding him to burst seconds before Merlin was there, wrapping him tightly in his shaking embrace.

The embrace was so tight it hurt, and made breathing hard, but Arthur clung on tightly to Merlin, the only fear he felt was worry at the way Merlin was shaking so violently while holding him. He could feel Merlin’s skin rippling under his touch, the cambion’s breathing rough, the fingers digging deeply into his back feeling sharp.

Merlin was close, dangerously close, to losing control over himself.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? _Are you okay?_ ** _Did he hurt you_?** ” Merlin was nearly screaming those questions over and over while holding him so tightly.

“I am fine, he did not hurt me!” Arthur tried to get through Merlin’s frantic haze, but his lover kept trembling viciously, kept asking those questions, kept holding him tighter and tighter until Arthur was truly scared something in him would break.

And then it happened.

Merlin lost all control over himself and shifted into his true form. Arthur could feel the transformation under his fingertips, and he pulled away enough to be able to look up with wide-eyes, seeing the transformation of that face, as the humanity was chased away by the demonic. Not only was Merlin in his demonic form, but he was radiating darkness which seemed to extend from his body, first in a bodiless with writhing mass which tapered into a multitude of tentacles. Beneath him the grass was withering, turning black, and spreading outwards, quickly consuming all around him in darkness.

The sounds of fighting, of snarls, of weapons clashing and magic exploding began to fade all around them, and when Arthur realized that he tore his gaze from his mate to peer around them. Soldiers from both sides, friends and enemies, seemed to forget about each other, about the battle they had been waging, the injuries they had been inflicting on each other, and all turned to look towards Merlin in absolute horror. Those closest stumbled back and away from the tentacles, from the withering grass beneath their feet.

“ _What_ ** _is_** _he?_ ” Someone whispered in horror.

“ _A monster_ ,” someone else gasped.

Only those that the darkness had shot into remained still, remained unphased since even those who had gone through the rituals were staring in wide-eyed shock.

“ _He’s a demon_!”

“ _A devil_!”

Arthur snarled at them all before turning his gaze back on Merlin and realizing that Merlin’s eyes were wide in horror, his gaze on the looks of terror on the faces of those around him. Merlin looked so much like the traumatized child from his mindscape that it sickened Arthur and made him hate each and every person on the. battlefield, but especially Mercia and its allies. Could they not see the way their reactions were affecting him? This was one of Merlin’s greatest fears come true, and every single face in that crowd were proving all of his most deeply-rooted fears true, valid.

“ _He’s a monster!”_

_“Get away!”_

And it was at that second that Arthur realized that this was what Tauren wanted. Sure, the sorcerer had wanted to kill Arthur, but it was more than obvious that killing Arthur was a side benefit, what he’d truly wanted to do was make Merlin lose total control of his own emotions, to let his fear take over. Just like it had in his childhood, Merlin’s true form had manifested when he was at his most terrified, his most vulnerable, and _that_ was the primary reason for the attempt on Arthur’s life. Tauren had wanted to isolate Merlin from his own side, to alienate him even more than he already secretly felt. Every thing that Tauren had done had been to hurt Merlin, to encourage the darkness, the pain, the suffering, to keep Merlin trapped, not just physically, but psychologically, to ingrain in the cambion that Tauren was the only one who knew and who could accept - that everyone else would hate him, would be disgusted by him, would fear him.

“ _Look at those eyes!”_

_“Nothing with a soul could have eyes like that!”_

Tauren wanted Merlin to believe the lies that the sorcerer had done so many horrible things trying to ingrain it in him.

“ _What do we do? How do we kill something like that?”_

The blonde reached up and cupped Merlin’s face, forcing him to look away from the others and back down at Arthur as the boy smiled up at him tenderly. He could feel Merlin’s shivered grip on him relaxing as those eyes found complete acceptance and open love in Arthur’s eyes, and in the end Arthur was not being full of himself when he asserted that to Merlin, Arthur was the most important person who existed, Arthur was Merlin’s mate, his most sacred existence. “I am the only one whose opinion should matter, Merlin.”

Merlin closed his eyes and leaned down, resting his forehead against Arthur’s and visibly forcing himself himself to calm down. “What if they turn against you as well because you have allowed something like me to tup you? Your kingdom, your people—.”

Arthur’s hands fell from Merlin’s face to grab his shirt, pulling the cambion closer as he arched into his body. “Do I look as if I _care_?” He pressed his hips forwards into Merlin’s, and did not even try to hide his smirk at the choked whimper the action brought out from his mate. “What do _you_ care about, Merlin? Them? Or _me_?”

Almost instantly Merlin’s darkness reached for Arthur, causing some of the more foolish men closest to them to cry out warnings to the boy to look out, but those tentacles wrapped around Arthur like an embrace, causing the blonde to shift his face upwards and catch Merlin’s lips with his in reward as he sunk his fingers into the cambion’s hair. He took this moment, this opportunity, to make his claim on his mate obvious to all as he pressed up on his tiptoes and shifted so his body was flush against his mate’s.

When Merlin tore his lips from Arthur’s, it was to raggedly, breathlessly, ask: “What would you have me do?”

The question made Arthur smiled as he pulled away and stared up into his demon’s eyes. “Kill Tauren. End the war. Q _uickly._ ” His lips curled teasingly as he rubbed himself seductively against his mate. “I promised to show you just _how much_ I love your every form, and I am very eager to keep my word.”

“Emrys! Arthur! Look out!” Mordred could be heard yelling from somewhere further down the hill.

Arthur felt the jolt of scarlet magic hit once more, even more furious than before, and yet unlike with Merlin’s magic, this time the darkness did not merely shield the twosome from the ferocious attack, but seemed to be consuming the attacking magic itself. The attack was aimed at Arthur, the blonde could _feel_ it, had been pushed tighter into Merlin with the blow to his back, but the darkness curled around him had softened the blow so that he was merely shoved into Merlin’s embrace, which tightened around him seconds before Merlin kissed him roughly.

They were currently under attack, and yet while the putrid vileness from that scarlet should’ve been completely overwhelming, should’ve been suffocating, the sensations from Merlin’s darkness not only dulled the effects of the emotions fueling Tauren’s spell, but distracted Arthur by seeming to kiss and lick every part of his body. Goosebumps lifted on his skin as he arched into the kiss, and when Merlin shifted his grip on him to grab him by the ass and pull him upwards, Arthur allowed himself to be lifted with a groan. He wrapped his legs around his mate and used their new position to grab fistfuls of Merlin’s hair, to tilt the demon’s head back so as to more deeply kiss him.

The hatred, the fury, the murderous rage, intensified in that scarlet attack, but the darkness consumed it all. Even though Arthur’s eyes were closed, and his attention fixed solely upon his mate, something odd happened. It was as if he could see around them, as if he were watching attentively, as Merlin’s magic, his darkness, began to thrum like a heartbeat before suddenly exploding outwards, consuming the hilltop and the valley below - everything - in a rush of inescapable darkness.

Screams began to emerge from the darkness, blood-curdling, terrified screams, yet Arthur merely kissed Merlin harder and groaned when his mate began kneading his asscheeks in response. There was a strange - amazing - oneness that he felt at that moment, with Merlin that he had never felt before. It was exhilarating, addicting, arousing. He oddly enough felt as if he slipped once or twice into flashbacks of their rutting inside of that pit of darkness. It was almost as if with each blink they were back there, together, with nothing but the black and themselves.

While it had been terrifying at first, especially considering Arthur had been sure they’d been about to drown, the blonde had very quickly come to more than enjoy it. There’d been no distractions, no interruptions, nothing but his mate and himself, and the blackness that rocked them into each other. Arthur found himself wishing they were back in that endless black.

“ _Found him_ ,” Merlin whispered against Arthur’s lips seconds before the darkness disappeared deep into the earth as if sucked down into it, revealing the world around them once more, and what remained - at least what Arthur saw in his mind - shocked the blonde into pulling away from Merlin and actually looking around with his eyes.

It was the same view. It was still somehow more shocking.

All around them the battlefield had been felled except for a very select few. The changelings,the druids, those who had been attacked by the bolts of darkness, and a very select few (comprised of Sophia, Mordred, Percy, Leon, Elyan, Gwaine and Lancelot) remained standing while everyone else lay lifeless on the ground - whether they were dead or merely unconscious was impossible to tell.

“Are they dead?” Arthur asked curiously as he turned his back on Merlin and allowed his blue gaze to take in the awe-inspiring scene in front of him. He took a couple of steps towards the closest men and realized that their eyes were all open, but there wasn’t any sign of life in those blank eyes.

“Does it matter?” Merlin asked in an incredibly dark tone.

The tone caused Arthur to turn towards his cambion and noticed the way he held himself, the way his clawed fists clenched tightly at his sides, his claws digging into the meat of his palms and causing blood to drip down his balled fists to the ground beneath them. Arthur moved back to his mate and grabbed his hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing them, licking at the blood while raising his gaze up to meet Merlin’s black gaze. He didn’t need words, and neither did Merlin, not if the way he unclenched his fists to allow Arthur to lick and kiss away the blood from its source.

Merlin rubbed the hand Arthur wasn’t licking over his face, coating the blonde with it in a very obviously mark of ownership. “Keep Excalibur at hand, Arthur.”

Surprised at those words, Arthur frowned as Merlin pulled away and moved passed him, but not before pressing down on his shoulder in a clear ‘do not follow’ gesture. The prince summoned Excalibur in his hand and turned on his heels to stare at Merlin as the cambion walked away from him at a languid pace.

Hearing a wet, choked cough, Arthur’s blue eyes followed the sound to realize that Aurelius was the only one still conscious, but it could very well be the fact that he was dying. It was honestly surprising to the young price that his uncle had not died as yet, and he found himself going to stand over the body of the man who had murdered his parents, yet had sacrificed himself to save Arthur. He couldn’t understand why he would do that, especially having promised to kill Arthur a mere couple of minutes before. What could have possibly changed during that time?

“Why did you do that?” Arthur stood over his dying uncle, eyes narrowed, hands clenched at his sides tightly. “Why did you save me?”

“Because,” he coughed up blood, “you chose saving Merlin over killing me.” Aurelius smiled despite the hole in his body, and the way his blood tinted the ground red. “Because _you really do_ love him. And he loves you. And I—.” He gasped desperately for breath, his expression agonized as he reached into his tunic and pulled out a locket, breaking the chain and holding it up to Arthur in his shaky, blood-covered grip. “—I could not let him die, not when he looks so much like… like his grandfather.” Those eyes shifted onto Arthur as they grew disoriented. “Not when you look so much like me, you even have my eyes.” His own eyes started to flutter close as his voice slurred. “It’s as if Myrddin and I were given a second…” And then his eyes closed and his body went lax in death.

The locket slipped from his hand and tumbled on the ground to hit Arthur’s foot. He almost kicked it away, and yet despite his dark impulses Arthur found himself bending to his knees and reaching out to clasp the locket his uncle had tried to give him before his death. The blonde took in a deep breath and unlatched the locket, which sprung open, revealing a portrait within that was so realistic magic must have been a part of its making.

There were two people in the portrait, one looked like Merlin but more rugged, more muscled, his face and jawline thicker. This man had Merlin’s hair, Merlin’s eyes, and Merlin’s smile. It was like looking at an alternate version of Merlin. He wore regal robes of black and red, with Camelot’s insignia on his chest, his lips parted in a dark little grin at whoever who painting the portrait. The blonde next to him, however, only had eyes for _him_. Aurelius was _much_ younger and much happier, his smile wide and his eyes clearly besotted. He clung to Myrddin’s arm and rested his cheek against it while keeping his head tilted up to look into Myrddin’s face. Aurelius… Aurelius looked liked Arthur somewhat, except he was much shorter, incredibly slender, and had a surprisingly soft-featured face. He looked very much like Arthur might had Arthur been a girl.

Looking at this portrait, Arthur felt a moment’s panic. For a split second he was terrified that this was _them_ , but he pushed that ridiculous thought out of his head, especially considering his uncle had only _just_ died. It wasn’t as if he could be a reincarnation of someone who had been alive most of his life… But still, the resemblance was uncanny.

Had Aurelius thought Merlin his grandfather’s reincarnation? Was that why he had done everything he had? Had… had Aurelius _loved_ Merlin? The thought was very uncomfortable for Arthur and brought up questions he really did not want to think about right now. Especially not as he stared at the portrait, almost in a trance, and realized with a sickened feeling in his stomach that Aurelius looked at Myrddin the way Arthur himself looked at Merlin. It made it that much easier to imagine himself and Merlin in the picture, and Arthur nearly choked, finding it hard to breathe.

Aurelius had loved Myrddin the same way Arthur loved Merlin.

Uther had gotten Myrddin killed.

Arthur thought back to his grief-stricken, insanity-filled days after he’d been ‘rescued’ from Camelot. He’d hated his father, Nimueh, hated every single person responsible for Merlin’s ‘death’, but Arthur had hated himself above all else. He’d started changing from the moment he’d awoken to see Gauis. Arthur had felt the darkness growing inside of him, the horrible, sickening grief and fury and hate and self-hatred. The only thing that had helped him was that he’d heard of the Butcher of Mercia who had taken over as the Court Sorcerer, and Arthur had been able to funnel all of his hatred onto the person who thought they could replace him - on the person who Mercia was lauding - on the person who was making Merlin nothing more than a memory. Had Arthur not _had_ the Butcher of Mercia to concentrate all of his hatred on, however, he could not in good faith say what he might have done - especially with the way his father had tried to make him forget Merlin’s existence via potions (which he still could not forgive his father for) and loose bodies.

For the first time, now that he had all the facts, Arthur put himself in Aurelius’ position, and the sickness in his stomach grew to the point where he nearly vomited. He imagined himself and Merlin, imagined the scenario Aurelius had painted for him. It was in that moment, as Arthur relieved seeing Merlin killed by Nimueh over and over again and again and again in his head, that the blonde realized that had he been in Aurelius’ position - if he had found his mate and had had that mate murdered… Arthur would have done the exact same thing Aurelius had. Had Arthur truly lost Merlin, had the Butcher been someone else, Arthur would’ve enacted the plan he had devised through his dark insanity - he would have taken revenge, and would have started with the Butcher.

It was something he had yet to share with Merlin, mostly because he did not want to ruin Merlin’s image of him. How could it change if Merlin knew that while Camelot and Mercia had gotten together to talk peace, Arthur had been preparing to murder them all? He’d planned to start with the Butcher, and then would murder Bayard, and then his men would kill the Mercians in the castle. That had been the plan Arthur had devised in his darkest hour, but hadn’t been able to enact as yet out of the need to have everything perfectly. The Butcher would’ve had to have been the first killed as he was Mercia’s greatest weapon, so Arthur had wanted to get as much information on the Butcher as he could before doing anything - which was why he’d provoked the Butcher into taking off his mask.

To this day he could not help but be relieved every time he thought about that day. Had he not provoked Merlin, had he not gotten him to remove the mask, the spell that changed his voice… Arthur would have poisoned his mate and never would have known the truth until it was too late. He doubted that it would’ve killed Merlin, not if Nimueh’s spell had failed to, but it would’ve killed any chance he would’ve ever been able to have of getting Merlin back. He could easily imagine it, could envision himself enacting his plan, poisoning the ‘Butcher’ only to discover afterwards in horror that it was _Merlin_. And Merlin… Merlin would have known, and he would have believed Arthur had known as well and that the attack had been deliberate, and he would have _never_ stopped hating Arthur.

Arthur trembled in absolute terror, just like he always did whenever he allowed himself to think of that horrible thought. He tightened his grip on the locket, on a fate which he could very well have shared. Even if Merlin had not killed him for what he would’ve assumed was a second attempt at murdering him, Arthur would’ve lived the rest of his life with his mate _hating_ him, _despising_ him, _ignoring_ and _refusing_ him. Even if he had somehow managed to live a comfortable life and died of old age, Arthur would have had to do so knowing _his mate_ not only _hated_ him, but was with _someone else_. He would not have only _known_ it, but he would have _seen_ it, because had Arthur known Merlin was alive he would not have been able to… to… to let go, to let live…

The blonde shivered harder and harder and he grabbed his hair tightly.

By the time he’d been ‘rescued’ from Mercia it had already been too late for him. By then he’d already become enamored, addicted, _obsessed_ , with Merlin. Part was due to the cambion’s physiology, but most of it had to do with Merlin himself. Arthur had sensed the changes in himself, and they had scared him at first, which was the reason he had fought so stubbornly for so long to keep from showing Merlin he’s true feelings, to—but then seeing Merlin’s ‘death’… it had snapped something inside of Arthur, had done something to him, had shattered a part of Arthur he’d never get back. 

Had all of this happened and he’d lost Merlin on top of it… to someone else…

If that had happened, Arthur’s intricate plans to murder the Butcher and his King would have all shifted onto whoever had taken Merlin from him. They _had_ when he had realized that Merlin was with Mordred. Arthur had come up with various ways to kill Mordred, and Morgana too if it came to that, as well as Bayard and everyone else. He had just never _had_ to resort to using them. But if he hadn’t been able to get Merlin back on his own… and if anyone else tried to take him away… managed to take him away…

“Arthur!” Sophia fell to her knees in front of him and grabbed the hands he had gripping his hair, forcing him to look up at her. “Arthur, you need to _control_ yourself! The darkness is starting to overwhelm your reason, you need to calm down!”

“W-what?” Arthur choked out in confusion.

Sophia didn’t answer him, merely hands his hands from his hair and held them up. “Look at yourself, Arthur!”

And he did.

His eyes widened in absolute shock to see a hint of scales under his skin. “ _What_?” His blues shifted onto her in confusion. “How is this possible? _I_ am not a Dragonlord!”

“No, but you’re _his mate_ ,” Sophia pushed, speaking slowly. “I’ve never heard of this before either, but Arthur, I’ve also never heard of a human mate being able to command the inner dragon, or be able to enter the Endless Orchards without permission, or being to commune with their mate’s element. _Especially_ not darkness. There has never _been_ a mate for a darkness dragon, not a willing one, not a _true_ one.” She squeezed Arthur’s hands tightly. “But it appears that that darkness not only accepted you, it seems to have _claimed_ _you_ _too_.” She stared into his eyes in determination. “I think it might be… feeding you… Arthur. That will make you stronger, but you will also be more vulnerable to your darker impulses. I don’t know _what_ was going through your mind right now, but I could feel it, could feel the darkness that claims Merlin bubbling inside of you.”

Breathing slower, trying to calm his thoughts and his heartbeat, Arthur stared at Sophia as he digested all that she was telling him. He then looked down at his hands and arms, at the scales visible right beneath the surface of his skin, and then as he calmed down, he watched them slowly disappear.

“What were you thinking back there?” Sophia asked carefully. “What triggered the darkness in you? Was it finally killing your uncle?”

Arthur shook his head. “It was… he and Merlin’s grandfather… somehow they made me think of what would have happened had I not—had Merlin—if _someone else took him from me_ … Just the thought of having to live knowing he loved someone else and… I wouldn’t be able to… I’d _kill_ —.”

“ _Oh_.” Sophia’s eyes widened and she grinned. “I understand.” The redhead looked much more at ease now as she relaxed. “That’s completely understandable, and expected. I was worried because I thought your uncle’s death had—but this is—it is normal.” She let go of his hands now that he was in control of himself once more and patted his shoulder. “You are not married, not sexual partners, not even just consorts, Arthur, you are Merlin’s _mate_. You’ve been claimed. And you’ve claimed in return. It is _normal_ to feel that way, and I suppose, given Merlin’s element, as well as the fact that that same element has also claimed you…” She smirked playfully at him as she waggled her eyes. “You two are going to have a very **_intense_** relationship.”

“Arthur, are you okay?” Mordred gasped as he reached their side, bending over onto his knees as he breathed heavily, clearly having run up the hill.

Arthur turned to the brother he had devised multiple ways of murdering. “Yes, I—I lost myself for a while.”

Mordred nodded in relief before his gaze fell on their uncle, his expression closed off. “Camelot’s king is dead.”

“So is Mercia’s,” Lancelot declared, less out of breath than Mordred had been.

“ _What_?” Arthur looked up in wide-eyed shock, seeing Percy, Leon, Elyan and Gawain had also made their way up the hill next to him.

“Valiant is dead,” Gwaine replied with a huff, not sounding very sorry for the death, not even using Valiant’s title. He raised an eyebrow and stared at Arthur intensely. “Did you know that Merlin… that he looked like that? You did not seem surprised like the rest of us.”

Arthur met Gwaine’s gaze, held it, and then nodded. “Yes.”

Gwaine’s eyes narrowed and then he smirked. “Wow, princess, I think might just have to approve of you now. I _really_ don’t know how to take that!”

Arthur frowned. “I don’t need your approval.”

Gwaine grinned. “I like you even more now! Damn it!” He then turned to Lancelot and slapped his chest. “Did _you_ know?”

“I knew he _had_ a different form, or at least I suspected it from things that Cassius would say now and then,” Lancelot admitted with a frown. “But I did not know it was one such as that. I understand why he would hide it.” Lancelot’s brown gaze fell to Arthur. “Thank you for being able to accept that.”

“What is there to accept?” Arthur asked, feeling oddly angry at that. “You say that as if there is something hideous about his true form.”

Lancelot stared at him before smiling. “ _Thank you_.”

Elyan and Leon exchanged small smiles.

Mordred sighed and leaned back into Percy, who cleared his throat and rested his hand on Mordred’s shoulder.

Suddenly realizing something, Arthur looked around as he stumbled to his feet, shoving his uncle’s locket into his tunic. He could see the changelings, could see the ones that the darkness had jolted into, but he couldn’t see… “Where is Merlin?” He then looked down as Excalibur began to throb with dark energy, and only too-late remembered Merlin’s warning to keep it ready in his hand. “Something’s happening.”

Seconds later, in the hills all around them, a second wave of men appeared, cresting over the hilltops. It would appear that the army they had been fighting had been nothing but a decoy, a trap to lure them here to the center so they could get ambushed on all sides.

Everyone drew their weapons, but they were terrifyingly outnumbered.

“ _Where is Merlin_?” Arthur hissed as he stared around him at the army encircling them on every side.

And then, with a scream, the multitude attacked.

* * *

 

“Did you _really_ think that that little army was all we had?” A voice laughed in derision. “I taught you war strategy, Merlin, I am disappointed in you.”

A part of Merlin was still terrified when Tauren appeared out of the shadows and manifested himself finally, but the cambion stood tall, knowing he had something very important to protect that he could not fail. He peered down at the innumerable army charging on those below, a hundred to one, before his gaze rose to meet Tauren’s once more. “Of course I did not think that was enough, you have conquered more than four other kingdoms, there was no way that _that_ was Camelot’s might.”

“Did you now?” Tauren’s eyes widened, and his lips curled, as he walked on the air, high above the battleground, where Merlin had sensed and joined him for their own private battle. “Then did you _purposefully_ leave the boy down there to die?” His grin was large, the expression in his eyes manic. “Have you finally come to prove yourself to me? Have you _finally_ come to show me you are not as disgustingly weak as your father?”

“You’re always a hundred steps ahead of me,” Merlin whispered with a sigh as he looked at his godfather, at the man he had once worshipped. “When you summoned those undead, and I realized that the only way I could stop them was by taking in the darkness I knew you were planning something for me with that darkness, but I was willing to take that risk. Do you want to know why, Godfather?”

“Because you realized that I am the _only one_ who can not only stand as your equal, but who can _teach you_ all you need to know?” Tauren tilted his head. “Because you realized what I have all along? That we are _the same_.” He stepped forwards. “The Dragonlords, the Osgars, we were betrayed by those we trusted the most, we were hunted and exterminated like vermin by those lesser than us, we were left to be forgotten by the annals of time! It is only _you and I_ who can share in this pain, in the glory of revenge! Only you and I understand the pain, the hatred, only you and I can _rend Albion to sunder_ for what it has allowed to happen to us! _”_

Merlin just stared at the man who had been his greatest source of fear since Bayard’s rescue, and yet, for the first time ever, what Merlin felt wasn’t terror but pity. “No. That is not why.” He peered down, watching as the wave of enemies continued to bare down on the much _much_ smaller group awaiting them, before he looked up at his godfather and shifted the hands he held at his sides so his palms were facing outwards as he lifted his hands roughly in the air to hip-height.

Down below them, on the earth, the legions who’d fallen lifelessly from the blanket of darkness now rose as one before turning and screaming as they took to the fight, racing passed a surprised Arthur and the others to meet the wave of attackers head on.

Tauren stared down beneath them with wide eyes before he let out a ragged breath which turned into laughter. “My magnificent boy.” He looked up at Merlin, tears of laughter in his eyes. “Did my undead puppets give you this idea?” He did not need Merlin to answer to know it was so, so Merlin did not, and yet Tauren merely laughed harder. “Do you not see? This is what I was saying! Only _I_ can inspire you! Teach you! Only _I_ am worthy of you! Only _you_ are worthy of me!”

“I adored you when I was a child,” Merlin admitted softly. “I respected you, looked up to you, wanted to be like you, worshipped you, I would have done _anything_ you asked me to.” He still felt the heartache from the betrayal of that trust. “Had you spoken to me about our shared history, about the pain, had you trained me, educated me, had you truly been my guardian…had you nurtured the implicit trust I had in you, as well as my undying loyalty, I would have gladly followed your path and sought vengeance. Had you been a true Godfather to me Albion would be nothing but ruin by now.” His eyes narrowed as his anger grew. “So how _dare_ you try to appeal to me citing betrayal as our common pain when _yours_ was the gravest - most traumatizing - I have ever faced?”

“I _never_ betrayed you.” Tauren’s eyes narrowed. “Everything I did, everything I have done since, has always - _always_ \- been for _you_!”

“It has been _for_ ** _you_**.” Merlin’s voice lowered into a growl. “You do not love me, you do not love anyone, you do not know what it is to love. All you know is hatred and malice and cunning. All you have ever wanted was a monster to end the world for you because of your inability to do it yourself.”

“ _Lies_!” Tauren snarled as the clouds all around them began to tint vicious red, as if they were filling with blood. “You have been corrupted by Bayard, Merlin! By Arthur! You have been made weak! _Blind!_ ” Lightning clashed viciously all around them as rain red as blood began to fall from those scarlet clouds. “Don’t you see? You think that boy is your mate. You think he makes you strong. _He doesn’t_. He is just another problem, another obstacle, that needs to be taken care of to free you - to make you the Dragonlord you were always meant to be!”

“How is that for _you_ to decide?” Merlin wanted to know coldly. “You’re not even a Dragonlord.” He tilted his head. “You’re just another human who has managed to convince himself he’s more important than he actually is.”

“Funny, given that _this human_ has _your dragon_ locked up!” Tauren snarled viciously. “And it will _stay_ that way, trapped deep inside, unable to do anything but feel rejection and pain, not even able to manifest and remind everyone of its presence until you finally break! You need me, Merlin! _It_ needs me! It will _never_ be free unless _I—!_ ”

“You see, that is where you are wrong,” Merlin informed him, unable to keep the pleased smile from appearing on his lips.

Tauren froze at the appearance of that smile, his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? My spell is still on you. I can _feel_ it! That dragon is—!”

“Mated,” Merlin interrupted. “I did not understand it myself, not at first, but then Arthur told me some things that made me wonder, and then, finally, before I came to you I had my suspicion confirmed.” He smiled darker as he tilted his head. “I do not need you to free my dragon, Godfather.”

“What are you talking about?” Tauren asked in a stilted way.

“You do not have to know,” Merlin informed him, knowing his godfather enough to know that not telling him would be even worse than doing so in his books. “Now, I am going to kill you very slowly. I promised my mate that your death will hurt.”

Tauren stared at him in silence before laughing. “It won’t be easy, Merlin, especially with half of you shut off.” He grinned maniacally. “Does your loverboy _have_ that much time?” He glanced down before peeking back up at him. “Sure, you’ve given him more numbers, but they are far from equally numbered, matched. Your puppets will not be enough to stop my army from closing in rank like they are doing, and murdering every single person down below, your little whore included.”

“I know,” Merlin admitted. “I just needed to wait.”

The smile slipped slightly from Tauren’s lips. “For _what_?”

“For my dragon to consume a _bit_ more darkness.” Merlin then closed his eyes and spoke to his dragon for the first time ever: _now_.

Suddenly the ground beneath the battling armies turned black, making those fighting seeming to be doing so while levitated over an endless void, and while it could be merely considered an illusion, darkness shot up from the ground, knocking people back as creatures of shadows took flight, roars escaping their lips as they shot up into the air before diving into the mass of bodies once more, breathing dark fire into the enemy or tearing into them, leaving nothing standing in their wake. More and more of those creatures of darkness roared, flexed their wings, and decimated the army from behind their own ranks, leaving Tauren’s army the one now flanked by enemies from every side.

Merlin could feel the strain, the pain, but he pressed his hand against his solar plexus and smiled through the agony. Honestly, even _he_ was surprised that he could do this, that he was able to conjure such lifelike manifestations.

“ _Dragons_.” Tauren’s voice was low, awed. “They have no been seen in Albion since the fall of the Dragonlords.” His wide-eyed gaze shifted onto Merlin. “ _How are you doing this_? The dragon is trapped! **_HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS_**?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Merlin replied with a sneer. “You’d need to have a soul to be able to.”

Tauren snarled viciously as his gaze took in Merlin’s true form in a very provoking manner. “How adorable. You think you have a soul. Just _look_ at you. You’re a monster, Merlin, you _have_ no soul.”

Before Merlin would have flinched at that, and yet now his sneer grew. “Of course I have a soul. He’s down there right now.”

Something snapped viciously in Tauren as his body thrummed in fury. “You disappoint me, Merlin. All of the time I have wasted on you - all of my hopes and dreams that I have poured into you - you squander them all! You have—.”

“Is this the part where you go: if I can’t have you, no one can?” Merlin mocked.

Tauren screamed and flung his hands out towards Merlin as an overwhelming rush of murderous scarlet shot at him.

Merlin lifted one hand, darkness reaching out and forming a shield to protect him. “I must thank you for something. If you had not activated my curse I would not have been taken to the Endless Orchards, I would not have been taken to my element, and I would not have discovered something quite _amazing_.” He smiled. It was all teeth. “Do you want to know what I discovered while I was down there surrounded by my element, Godfather? Do you know what it showed me? What it taught me? What it whispered in my ear? Do you want to know the terrifying knowledge still settling in my brain?”

Tauren didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. His eyes were wide in fury yet also in shock as he tried desperately to put more and more and more power behind his attack, and to be fair he _was_ increasing the overwhelming power, but that did not matter.

“I am a Dragonlord claimed by the element of darkness,” Merlin informed him softly yet assertively. “And unlike Dragonlords of any other element, those claimed by darkness have the potential, and willingness, to destroy the world because they feed off of _every living thing_.” His gaze met his uncle’s. “Even magic.” And with that he stopped trying to push the magic away, and like he’d tried before during Tauren’s previous attack, he consumed it.

Tauren’s confusion grew rapidly on his paling face as his magic continued to funnel into that blackness emerging from Merlin’s palm, and then finally he seemed to understand and his confusion turned to utter terror. The sorcerer tried stopping his own magical attack, but Merlin wouldn’t allow him to. Like he did while feeding from sexual pleasure, Merlin drew the magic he was consuming. Terror filled the magic Merlin consumed, and Tauren used his other hand to fling lightning at Merlin, but it too was consumed, was absorbed.

“Merlin, do not do this!” Tauren yelled, his voice shaking, for the first time it was he who was afraid. “Merlin! I am your godfather! Merlin! I love you! I always have! I am the only one who loves you! Who can understand you! Merlin! _Please_!”

“Goodbye, Godfather,” Merlin whispered before sucking the magic, and then the life, out of Tauren Osgar.

* * *

 

With Tauren killed his power over the armies had gone, and to be honest, even if that had not been the case the Shadow Dragons (as they were being called) had terrified the armies into rapid surrender. The battle had ended incredibly quickly given everything, and yet even though victory had been awarded to Mercia things were more up in the air than ever given both sides had lost their monarchs.

To be quite honest, Arthur was surprised that Merlin and he had returned to the Mercian camp (as had, well, the now combined army). Merlin was still in his true form, which meant that those in camp reacted as well, although Cassius and the Swain took it much better than the others had. Cassius - as Lancelot had hinted at - apparently had already known Merlin had a demonic form, he just had not seen it before, and the Swain? Well, it would appear that Merlin’s true form merely made them more terrified of _Arthur_ than Merlin himself, and, well, Arthur could work with that so he was more than okay with it.

What he _wasn’t_ okay with was Merlin leaving him in their tent with orders for him to ‘relax’ in the tub of hot water he had conjured for him. They had barely made it into the tent before Lancelot had apologized as he’d interrupted and called Merlin away for a tête-à-tête. Considering everything it was not really surprising Lancelot wanted a private word with Merlin, but Arthur honestly resented his friend for it. Ever since he’d nearly blacked out during the battle he’d been fighting arousal unlike any he’d ever felt before.

The fire deep inside of Arthur was burning so heatedly he couldn’t bare it any longer, not only were his insides tightening uncontrollably, the itch more and more unbearable as his body continued to find itself empty, but Arthur could feel himself dripping embarrassingly from his quivering entrance. While Merlin should be the one savagely rearing for a rutting it was Arthur who found himself growing more and more desperate the longer he remained alone, untouched, unbreached.

Even though Merlin had ordered him to relax in the magically conjured tub while he went to have the conversation that he’d felt more important than joining Arthur in said tub, the blonde found relaxation impossible. He sobbed and gave in to his body’s demands, reaching down his own body and rubbing his entrance with his own fingers. He had never down this to himself before, and at the first touch he could _fell_ how desperate his body was to have something inside, and yet even as he slipped a finger inside _it was not enough_. A sob escaped Arthur’s lips as he eased in another finger and began moving them like Merlin would, yet he was getting more satisfaction from the memory of Merlin’s touches than his actual ones.

These fingers weren’t the ones his body was craving, and no matter how hard he tried to replicate Merlin’s movement he could not find any relief, any pleasure. His body knew its master, knew what should be inside of him, and it was rebelling against any other. It was desperate for what it truly wanted and would not be fooled.

It wanted Merlin, wanted his fingers, his tongue, _his cock_.

A shiver raced down Arthur’s spine as he rearranged himself, hooking his feet on the edge of the tub so as to better - easier - work his fingers into himself. Memories of Merlin’s cock trying to force its way into him, of the struggle as that inhumanly huge member fought every inch, fueled Arthur’s fingers as he added a third and whimpered at the burn. But it would be worth it, if he could relax, could loosen himself enough, maybe Merlin’s cock would be able to slide in quicker, easier, would fill him to the hilt with less trouble.

At the thought Arthur’s body clenched tightly around his fingers and then a shocking sense of grief at the reminder that they were still only his own fingers jolted through him. Even so he kept his eyes closed and forced himself to relax once more as he moved his fingers in as deep as they would go while forcing them apart widely. His body complained but he ignored it, reminding it he was doing this for the _both_ of them since they both desperately wanted - and needed - the same thing.

No pleasure could be found as he loosened himself, stretched himself, but every time the thought - the image - of Merlin loomed over and burying himself inside of him - slipped into his mind the pleasure that he was missing would jolt down through his like magic for a split second, making his body desperate. It was almost like self-torture if he was being honest, and yet with how he was right now he figured having to wait to be filled with his mate would be even worse.

“I wondered at your body’s position,” Merlin’s voice was not only surprising, but surprisingly low, graveled, causing Arthur to jolt in shock and lean his head further back to see that his mate was there, watching him with dark eyes. “No, do not stop,” Merlin ordered as he moved to the tub and bent on his knees, resting his chin on the forearm he panted on the tub’s edge while his other hand reached over to trail his claws teasingly against the water’s surface. “I want to watch you some more.”

Arthur whimpered, turning slightly while holding his position, trying to beg Merlin with his eyes even as shivers of pleasure finally started to zap their way down his body now that his mate was here. “But—.”

“ _Arthur_ ,” Merlin’s voice was low in threat, causing Arthur to feel for the first time just how much sticky desire he truly seeped whenever he heard that tone. “Are you going to disobey me, my mate?”

Shaking his head, Arthur bit down on his body lip and rearranged himself a little more, feeling the flush warming his skin as he started working his fingers inside of himself once more, this time more urgently. Just the fact that Merlin was there, was watching him, made the discomfort from before fade away as pleasure shot through Arthur at Merlin’s mere presence. His fingers moved roughly inside of him, and he kept trying to add the fourth finger, desperate to loosen himself enough for his mate the second Merlin would have him, and yet his body was not being cooperative, was still resentful these were his own fingers and not his mate, and his body’s behavior caused a whine of complaint and need to escape his parted lips. Why was his body being this brattish? They both wanted the same thing, damn it! They should be working together on this!

“ _Good_ _boy_ ,” Merlin praised, causing a shiver of delight to curl Arthur’s toes. “I thought it was a… peculiar… position to be in to stroke yourself…” The tip of his claw continued to brush the surface of the water. “But you’re completely ignoring your cute, honey-dripping cock, Arthur. Why is that? Hmmm?” Merlin turned his head and leaned in to whisper gravelly right into Arthur’s ear, his voice going straight to Arthur’s cock, causing it to twitch and quickly begin to harden against his stomach. “Was my mate’s little hole so desperate to be filled he could not wait for me to return? He needed to give it all the attention it desired?” He licked Arthur’s ear, chuckling at the boy’s sob, the sound of his chuckle only causing the blonde’s need to grow painfully. “Does it feel good, love?” Merlin wanted to know, scraping his teeth against Arthur’s ears. “Are you so used to being bred by now that you can only get pleasure from your greedy little hole?”

“ _Merrrrrrrrrlinnnn_ ,” Arthur sobbed as goosebumps tickled their way across his skin at the feeling of that voice, those lips, those teeth.

He chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating deep in Arthur’s ear and causing the boy to issue a loud whine, which only curved Merlin’s lips in approval. “I asked you a question, Arthur,” he shifted closer, his breathing louder, “does it feel good?”

“ _No_ ,” Arthur admitted with a desperate cry.

Merlin froze immediately, this was clearly not the response he had been expecting. “It doesn’t?”

“ ** _No_** ,” Arthur whimpered as he closed his eyes tightly and turned to hide his scarlet face against Merlin. “It _doesn’t!”_

Worry began to filter into Merlin’s voice as he quickly reached into the water and grabbed Arthur roughly by his wrist, stopping its movement immediately. “Then why are you doing something to yourself if you do not like it?”

“ _Because_ …” Arthur let out a ragged, embarrassed breath, keeping his eyes tightly shut in mortification. “I want—but it’s so hard to fit—but I don’t want to wait so—.”

Merlin stilled completely before letting out a ragged breath of his own and leaning down, his lips claiming Arthur’s even as he used his grip to slip Arthur’s fingers out of himself. Yet before Arthur could complain Merlin’s hand returned, his fingertips brushing against Arthur’s entrance, and that single touch alone hardened Arthur completely and caused him to groan as his body reacted in pleasured need. He felt the claws receding on those digits seconds before Merlin took advantage of the work Arthur had started and plunged three fingers deeply into him all the way to his knuckles.

The difference was terrifying. With Arthur’s own fingers it had felt sore, uncomfortable, resistant to the invasion, and yet the second Merlin’s fingers replaced his own Arthur’s body reacted as if struck by lightning, a sob escaping his lips and being swallowed by Merlin as Arthur’s body shifted, the blonde using his grip on the edge of the tub to raise his hips, offering himself more fully to his mate’s touch. His hole dripped desperately, coating Merlin’s hand embarrassingly quickly as his insides clenched around those fingers wantonly, glorying in his mate’s touch.

Merlin tore his lips from Arthur’s and instead returned to nibbling on Arthur’s ear. “Does it feel good _now_ , dearheart?”

“ _Yessssssssssss.”_ Arthur nodded desperately as he reached down to cover Merlin’s hand with his own, urging Merlin on, rubbing, caressing, the hand whose fingers were fondling his insides deliciously.

“You were such a good boy, Arthur, feel how loose you’ve made yourself for me,” Merlin praised and pressed open-mouth kisses down the side of Arthur’s face while he outstretched his longer fingers, opening Arthur up even further. “You’re so slick inside, my love, my fingers glide so easily within you. Just at the slightest brush of my fingertips…” he did just that, and his groan joined Arthur’s as the boy pressed his head back at the aching sensation, “…and you not only quiver so sweetly, but I can _feel_ your sweet stickiness seeping down to greet me in reaction.” He hummed in satisfaction as he continued to brush his fingertips teasingly within, leaving Arthur a quivering, dripping mess. “I may be the one whose body is thrumming with suffocatingly strong darkness that needs to be liberated, but it is _your_ body which is crying so pitifully for us to be joined.”

Using his grip on Merlin’s wrist, Arthur tried to pull his mate into the tub with him but he was horrifyingly weak with need and pleasure.

“Not so fast, love, let your sacrifice not be in vain,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s hair as he remained exactly where he was, unmoved by Arthur’s attempts. The tip of his pinky teased the boy’s stretched entrance. “Let us get you nice and loose for my cock, I want to slide deep inside of you in my true form just as easily, as quickly, as you want me to as well, so let us have some patience.” He pressed encouraging kisses into Arthur’s golden hair. “Endure a little longer, love, so we may reap the benefits of your labor together.” And then he forced his pinky passed the tight entrance and pushed inwards.

Arthur sobbed as he arched instinctively in the water.

“Is it too much too soon?” Merlin asked softly. “Should I remove it?”

“No!” Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin’s hand, pressing hard against the fingers buried inside of him to forcefully keep them within him. “ _Please don’t remove them_!”

Merlin’s lips curled into a smile against his face as he begun thrusting them, flexing his fingers, brushing and teasing the inner walls of Arthur’s body which clung to them desperately, clenching tighter so as to better feel those fingers within. His movements were unrelenting, his fingers demanding submission and obedience from Arthur’s body which it all-too happily provided.

“How did you manage with them in battle?” Merlin asked softly, sounding oddly fascinated.

“Huh?” Arthur asked unintelligently as he forced his eyes back open to catch the direction of Merlin’s gaze and follow it to his own chest, to his sore, swollen nipples.

“Look at how swollen they are,” Merlin muttered to himself as he shifted to leaned forwards from behind Arthur, this new position still allowing his fingers to continue making a mess of Arthur’s ass, but also allowed Merlin to reach down and run the back of his fingers against Arthur’s nipple. “It must have been torture to have the tunic and chainmail rubbing against you like this.”

To be quite honest, Arthur might be sore, but he hadn’t really felt the material of the tunic that had been weighed down by the chainmail. Merlin’s feather-light touch on the other hand forced a sob, a whimper, to wretch itself from his lips.

“I need to take better care of you,” Merlin whispered, apparently still talking to himself as he circled his fingertip around that perky, hard nub. “Look how bruised and swollen I left your body. Look at how _red_. You were already sore and yet I just couldn’t stop myself from suckling, and look at how I left you.”

Shifting his head enough to catch a sideways glance at Merlin’s face, Arthur whined pitifully as his gaze rested on his mate’s lips, remembering the way those lips wrapped around his nipple, suckling him mercilessly. His insides clenched around Merlin’s fingers in remembrance of the way Merlin’s cock had filled him with warm milk while his lips had demanded a different sort in return. Everything inside of him became inflamed, and Arthur tried tugging his mate into the tub with him once more, issuing a breathless complaint when once more Merlin would not be moved.

Ignoring Arthur’s attempts to get him into the tub, Merlin rubbed his hand over Arthur’s nipple, magic gathering at his fingertips, leaving the nub soft pink instead of desperate red. The cambion smiled, clearly pleased himself, as he used his magic to ease the other nipple as well, and yet while technically he _was_ alleviating the soreness and swelling he was increasing the torturous need that was welling deep in Arthur’s core and escaped his lips it a sound he had not even known he could make.

Merlin froze at the sound before he turned to look at Arthur in worry. “Did I hurt you?”

“Join me in the tub,” Arthur ordered.

The worry immediately turned into amusement. “I haven’t stretched you enough as yet.”

“Stretch me from in here.”

Smiling, Merlin rubbed his cheek against Arthur’s. “What a bossy little mate I have. So demanding.” He slipped his fingers free from Arthur and pulled away to stand and start undressing himself.

Shifting in the tub, Arthur knelt on his knees and watched his lover undressing with what he knew were hungry eyes. Merlin’s true form was magnificent, his pale skin contrasting against the demonic sigils which had been covered by his clothes, and when he unfastened his trousers and allowed them to fall, to reveal his demonic cock, Arthur rubbed his thighs together as his body reacted to the sight of what it desired most.

As if able to tell what the sight of his cock did to Arthur’s body, Merlin’s lips twisted in a crooked smile as he finally stepped into the tub and sat down, his magic shifting the tub somewhat to accommodate them both. His cock was so incredibly large, long, that the tapered tip stuck slightly out of the water and seemed to beckon Arthur to it seconds before magic added more hot water to the tub, burying that tip from view.

The call had been made though, and Arthur’s body was all-too eager to answer it as he moved to attempt to straddle is mate’s lap, facing Merlin, only to be turned around and sat down with his back facing Merlin’s chest instead. The cock he wanted so desperately inside of him was instead rubbing him from below, and yet instead of that cock, Merlin’s fingers were what invaded Arthur’s hole roughly, causing him to sob out and grab Merlin’s wrist as pleasure rocked his body.

A gasp escaped Arthur’s lips as Merlin’s arm swept under him, hooking under his knees to lift them high and shift Arthur’s position, baring his puckered entrance to the fingers which Merlin once more slipped roughly inside. The blonde cried out and leaned his head back against Merlin’s shoulder, mourning the loss of the cock but delighting in any form of Merlin being inside of him. He reached behind him to sink his fingers into Merlin’s hair, massaging his scalp while urging those teeth to return to his neck and begin sucking his mark of possession all over Arthur’s skin.

If Arthur could find his voice he’d tell Merlin how torturous this was for him. He didn’t know whether it was due to the stress of the battle, or a side-effect of being bound to Merlin (who had taken on such incredible darkness), or the fact that the dark moon was approaching - or maybe a combination of the three - he didn’t know, all Arthur knew was that there was a painful fire lit in his core, one that throbbed outwards, one that was momentarily chased away by Merlin’s lips and fingers yet was also being stoked by them. Every time Merlin’s lips shifted to a new place on his neck the old place burned hotter and hotter, and every time Merlin’s fingers found a new spot within him to caress the spots they had abandoned pulsated in pain.

Slowly but surely Arthur felt himself going insane. If Merlin continued to torture him like this he would lose his mind - truly lose it - and the realization was terrifying. He parted his lips over and over again to tell Merlin, to beg, but all that escaped from his lips where wordless whimpers and incoherent groans.

Outside of the tent a scuffle could be heard, words low and hissed, growing angrier, more contentious, before a voice was cleared as a tap could be heard on their tent’s flaps.

“Excuse me, Merlin, Arthur,” that was Sophia, who sounded annoyed. “There are some _really stubborn_ representatives of the defeated troops here who wish to speak to you and won’t listen to me when I tell them to come back later. According to them they _need_ to speak to you _now_.”

Merlin snarled and moved Arthur off of him, depositing the blonde onto the other side of the tub as he turned his gaze towards the tent’s flap. “Let them in, Sophia,” he grumbled as his eyes flashed with magic, causing soapy bubbles to appear all over the water’s surface and thus cover their indecency.

Panic and desperation jolted through Arthur as he breathed heavily, hands behind him and gripping the inside of the tub. Was Merlin not going to—? Not even his fingers? But Arthur _ached_! He was in _pain_! His body was pulsating with actual _agony_ as the emptiness inside of him tightened. He’d gone through so much trouble to loosen himself, and yet already he could feel his tension clenching his entrance, tightening that ring of nerves once more.

The flap was opened as a group of men, only one who Arthur actually recognized, entered with determination, only to falter when they realized both Arthur and Merlin were naked in the tub.

Sir Kay cleared his throat and went on one knee, head bent. “Prince Arthur, we of Camelot beg you forgive us for fighting against you in the battle. Your uncle’s monster used magic on us to force us to do so. It cannot excuse our betrayal, and we understand if you will find it difficult to trust us, but you are our Crown Prince, you will be our King, and we vow to regain your trust and affection.”

“I u-understand the situation you were all in, Sir Kay,” Arthur assured the knight with a pained, sorry excuse for a smile, trying to hide how unhappy he was right now but doubting that he was actually able to do so despite his best intentions. “I do not hold my people’s actions against them.”

He could see the worried flinch on the man’s face and realized he probably thought Arthur was reacting in that pained way because of their ‘betrayal’, but honestly Arthur just wanted them to leave already. He was in agony, in gods’ honest torment, and not being able to even be touched by Merlin’s fingers was making his wretched torture a hundred times worse than it had been before.

“Is that all?” Merlin wanted to know, elbow resting against the tub’s lip and his cheek resting against his closed fist. His voice and expression were both very unhappy right now as he positively glared at the group of men in his tent. It was more than obvious that if this _were_ the reason for their having interrupted, that the men might very well soon find themselves in a heap load of danger.

“No, it isn’t,” Sir Kay pushed on with a cleared throat as he remained on his knee, keeping his gaze respectfully lowered given Arthur’s state of undress. “The men are worried that perhaps this is not an appropriate place for Prince Arthur to be in right now, not in this camp, and not in this tent. We understand that you might be of some sort of agreement with him, but we cannot abide any disrespect being shown towards him. He is the Crown Prince of Camelot and as such should be afforded certain privileges due to his station. He is the only true heir in this camp, the only living royal.” Sir Kay took in a very deep breath as he grit his teeth. “There are… things… happening in the camp, immoral things, and we worry that this is not the sort of environment best suited for him. He should not be subjected to this sort of degradation. Not by _anyone_.”

 _What_ degradation was Kay talking about? Honestly, it wasn’t as if Arthur was a virgin maiden whose chastity needed to be guarded! The blonde had spent much time living in Mercia, both before and after Camelot’s fall. Did the knights truly think that he had been spared the more lurid parts of living in Mercia? Were they idiots?

Arthur was about to snarl for Kay to stop speaking out of turn, when Merlin shifted slightly and the blonde grew distracted as he moved his hand under the water, locating Merlin’s legs and beginning to rub them, finding himself quickly forgetting about everything else as his hand brushed against the one Merlin had in the water. The blonde captured his lover’s hand and tried tugging him towards him, only to frown when he found that not only was Merlin once more unmovable as he remained on his side of the tub, but the idiotic cambion completely ignored him and his attempts to pull him closer.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at Kay. “Is that so?”

Since Merlin would not come to him Arthur tried shifting closer to Merlin, only to find the hand under the water shaking free of his grip to instead pressing hard against his chest, stopping his advance. Disbelief curled through Arthur’s body at this rejection. Sure, with the height of the water and the thickness of the bubbles he doubted anyone had actually seen it happening, but that did not make the rejection any easier to handle. Panic curled in his gut as the fire burning within him augmented painfully, yet it was somewhat tempered by confusion. Why had Merlin stopped him from coming closer? Why didn’t Merlin want him closer? Why had he removed Arthur from his lap in the first place? Didn’t he know that that was Arthur’s place? Didn’t he understand Arthur’s rights? Why was he denying him now when earlier he’d been readying to take the blonde?

Sir Kay was flushed in anger. “Mercia may condone such behavior, but in Camelot we have _morals_. We—we have to understand that Prince Arthur was changed by his time in Mercian hands, and we have done our best to understand - to accept - that _you_ \- but we _cannot_ accept for him to be treated with such disrespect. We—.” He glanced up at Arthur and then flinched as he looked back down at his clenched hands. “For you to dishonor Our Prince by _permitting_ us to see him in this state of undress, and in such a compromising situation, as if to belittle, to undermine, his rightful position by implying that he is still nothing more than your sex slave, we _cannot_ allow—.”

Arthur had stopped listening to Kay a very long time ago, so he heard none of this. His inner fire was raging, and his body in turmoil. He reached for the hand pressed against his chest and shifted it towards his nipple only to flinch when Merlin let his hand fall away immediately, shifting to rest with both his elbows on the tub’s lips. This new position pulled Merlin further away from Arthur and turned his body slightly away from him so he could instead face the group of men, further denying Arthur. This second rejection twisted something inside of Arthur, something dark and vicious, something which forced him to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from snarling.

“You cannot allow _what_ exactly?” Merlin smiled at Kay, looking less angry and more amused for some reason, visibly intrigued. The sight made Arthur absolutely sick to his stomach. Why the _hell_ was Merlin smiling so openly at Kay while ignoring _him_? Kay wasn’t his mate! Kay wasn’t naked in the tub with him and desperate for his body! So why did _Kay_ get to enjoy the pleasure of Merlin’s attention, of his smile, while Arthur himself was rebuffed over and over again?

“We cannot understand why the ones lucky to escape Camelot and find refuge in Mercia allowed this - maybe they felt they had no choice - but we cannot allow it to continue. We understand that we are in a precarious situation, we understand that in many ways we are in Mercia’s hands until Our Prince can assume the throne, but we will not be cowed.” That asshole Kay not only wouldn’t leave, but continued speaking. “We cannot stand still and watch, listen, cannot allow these sorts of indignities to be forced upon — **_Prince Arthur_**?” Sir Kay’s voice squeaked in shocked horror.

It was only the sound of that voice that actually broke through the fog of pain, anger and need that had descended on Arthur, letting the boy realize that sometime during Kay’s rant Arthur had not only closed the distance between him and Merlin, but had crawled onto his mate’s lap and was rocking his hips teasingly, shifting so that his mate’s cock was nestled in the cleft of his ass and being stroked by his movements.

The prince tried to force Merlin’s gaze back to him so they could kiss, but Merlin was fighting his touch, keeping his head firmly tilted away from Arthur despite the blonde’s hand on his cheek trying to urge his face back to Arthur’s. Instead of complying to Arthur’s wishes as he usually would, the cambion kept his gaze firmly locked on Sir Kay’s. A whimper of displeasure escaped Arthur’s lips as he took his frustration out on Merlin’s neck, sucking and nipping while arching his back to rub his chest against Merlin’s while teasing the cock underneath him. Just touching his mate like this alleviated a bit of the pain, but like before it magnified the emptiness inside of him, the emptiness which hurt, which called out desperately to be filled. Arthur wanted Merlin’s hands on him, his mouth on him, his cock in him - and yet no matter how hard he teased his lover Merlin would not look away from Sir Kay.

Unhappiness welled in his throat as resentment mixed with sudden jealousy deep within his core at the realization that Sir Kay might be a boor, yet was not unattractive. Hell, now that Arthur actually thought about it, Sir Kay was a handsome young warrior with something of an attitude. In other words: Sir Kay was very much Merlin’s type.

Did Merlin _want_ Kay? Did Merlin want him so much that he would reject Arthur?

 ** _Threat!_** Something identified within Arthur’s mind, causing his lips to immediately pull in a snarl as he turned his furious gaze on Kay. His own skin felt odd but he ignored it as he gnashed his teeth together, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s neck and letting out a little warning growl which caused Kay’s eyes to widen even further in shock.

“Maybe it _is_ better for him to leave, to go to Camelot,” Merlin declared pensively despite the smile on his face as his gaze never wavered from Kay’s, seeming blind to the stab of terror and shock and anger that jolted through Arthur like lightning at those words. “Perhaps you are right,perhaps it is best for him if he goes. I _am_ a monster, and let us not pretend that _that_ is not a very pressing reason for your men’s rejection of our partnership. And maybe you are right. Maybe you should leave with Arthur tonight, while I am being magnanimous, just to be safe. Maybe, you should take him away right _now_.”

Fury welled in Arthur’s chest, causing him to positively _thrum_ with anger, and when he saw Merlin’s grin grow as his gaze remained on Kay, the blonde snapped, lunging forwards and burying his teeth where Merlin’s neck met his shoulder, drawing blood.

Merlin hissed and finally reacted to him, finally acknowledged his presence, a pleased chuckle escaping his lips as one of his arms slipped from where it had been resting on the tub’s lip and instead wrapped around Arthur so he could rub the blonde’s back soothingly.

It was not enough, Arthur was incensed. He tightened his teeth in Merlin while shifting his gaze furiously at Kay’s direction, warning him, and everyone else present, to know their place. Everything about this man was _his,_ **everything.** His body, his spirit, his heart, his mind, _his blood… everything_ about Merlin belonged to Arthur and the blonde was not going to allow _anyone_ to doubt that, to think they could lay any sort of claim on him. Arthur understood the feed - that was a necessity - but if _anyone_ else thought they could be anything more than _food_ he was going to have to stop them _immediately_ and prove his ultimate - complete - total - claim on _his mate_ to them otherwise.

Merlin’s blood gathered in his mouth, and Arthur made a show of swallowing as much as he could, hating that he was unable to drink it all, that while his throat worked as he gulped, that crimson still managed to escape and trail its way down Merlin’s pale skin to tint the water red. Arthur made sure to catch, meet, and hold the gaze of every single one of those men, made sure he was not the first to look away, to back down, and only once he had done so with them all did a little of his fury subside, but only _a little_.

“I think I have made my point,” Merlin declared confusingly with an incredibly smug sounding voice as he trailed his hands roughly down Arthur’s back to grab his ass tightly.

The unexpected pain forced Arthur to let go of his toothy-grip on Merlin’s neck so he could utter a throaty sob, drawing everyone’s attention on him, as had obviously been the plan. He opened his mouth to say - anything - but he couldn’t find any words, and when Merlin angled his hips in a certain way so the ridges teased against his opening he gave up even trying. Arthur clung to Merlin, sliding his hands through those coal black locks and began pushing his hips backwards so he could more roughly feel those ridges.

“I am not forcing _my mate_ to stay with me, he is here of his own free will. He knows I am a monster, and he loves me - desires me - despite this.” Merlin’s chuckle was so rough Arthur could feel it through his chest, the vibrations sinking into him as well and causing him to go whimper in need when Merlin used his grip on him to begin rocking Arthur’s hips, sliding Arthur’s core up and down the ridged, hardened length now nestled between his thighs. “In fact, before we went into battle I was informed by your prince that should I allow any obstacle - human or otherwise - to try and come between us, to separate us, that I would be shackled somewhere deep and dark, and that the obstacle would be _done away with_.” Merlin removed his hold on Arthur’s hips but the boy continued the rocking on his own, and when Merlin reached out to tenderly urge the blonde to look up at him, Arthur desperately tilted his head back, feeling a flush of arousal warming his flesh as he met his mate’s pleased gaze.“If there was any doubt he was telling the truth, let my blood, and the marks he’s left on me, be proof enough of his conviction.” Merlin leaned down to rub his nose against Arthur’s. “His mark of ownership covers my skin.” He was no doubt referring to the bite marks covering his chest and back from Arthur’s previous ministrations.

Arthur arched into Merlin’s touch, his voice breathy when he whimpered: “Whereas yours fills me from within.”

Merlin’s eyes darkened, as did his smile, and were the only warning before he kissed Arthur roughly, violently. He shifted his hips, thrusting his cock between Arthur’s asscheeks, torturing the blonde by having it so close to where he truly needed it. The boy scratched down Merlin’s back in retaliation, swallowing Merlin’s groan only to issue his own whimper when that cock throbbed between his cheeks.

The cambion pulled away enough to turn to Kay and the others, his voice emotionless when he declared: “Arthur stays _with me_. Whether we go to Camelot or make Mercia our home or live in a ditch somewhere, Arthur is not leaving my side.”

A purr of approval escaped Arthur’s lips seconds before he latched onto Merlin’s neck once more, this time sucking his marks of ownership against that pallid skin. He shifted his position in the red water, pushing up on his knees to lift himself as he reached behind him and (quite obvious to all) lined Merlin’s cock with his entrance. As soon as he felt that tapered tip at his hole Arthur let out a garbled sound and sunk down on his knees, using his body’s weight to assist in his breaching as he shifted his position, gripping Merlin’s shoulders for balance as he arched backward.

Instead of helping him, Merlin returned to resting with his elbows on either side of him against the lip of the tub, his lips pulled into a vicious smirk as he spoke to those in the tent with them. “Let everyone who fought with you and belongs to Camelot know that should they have any more ideas of what is proper and expected of Arthur… if anyone even gets a vague _idea_ in their tiny little minds about how Arthur should be treated or where he should make camp or sleep, or what he should be truly concentrating on at such a moment as this one…” He let his sentence trail, forcing Kay to meet his gaze, and only once he did did Merlin continue. “Remind them before they even get it into their minds that they have a say in _anything_ concerning my mate… that not only have I just killed the greatest sorcerer to have ever threatened Albion, but I can also _summon dragons from the depths of hell_.” He tilted his head to the side as he eyed Kay with a pleasant smile. “Do you think you can remember all of that, or do you want me to repeat it slower?”

“I—I can re-remember.” Sir Kay gulped very loudly before nodding rapidly, lowering his wide-eyed gaze once more to the floor.

It occurred to Arthur that he might have been somewhat set up so as to prove a point, but considering it was a point that _he too_ had wanted to be made known, he decided to let Merlin get away with it _this time_. Or, well, it _might_ be that, but it might also be the fact that Merlin’s cock was— _ooh_!

A loud sob escaped Arthur’s lips as he leaned further back and relaxed, feeling the slow yet sure slide of his body being penetrated. It wasn’t immediate, far from it, and yet unlike all the previous times Merlin and Arthur did not have to fight to fit that monstrous cock inside of him. Arthur’s body very slowly opened itself up, welcoming the form of its master.

Arthur hiccuped a groan as he gripped the edge of the tub so he could lean back further and open himself even more. “Do you feel how my body is sucking you in so eagerly? How it is welcoming you home?”

Merlin growled anomalistically and gripped Arthur by his hips, aggressively shoving him downwards, and unlike every other time he had done this, at the first shove Merlin completely impaled his body.

The boy screamed at the waves of pleasure and pain that erupted from his core as he was so violently penetrated by that monstrous cock. He reached for his mate, clawed him close enough to grab fistfuls of Merlin’s dark hair, and used that grip to yank his head towards Arthur’s arched chest. “Suckle, my love, I am _begging_ you! _Please_!”

“Arthur, if I didn’t know better…” Merlin purred darkly against his chest as he flicked the tip of his tongue against a rosy nub. “…I’d think you’re close to going into heat.” And with that he wrapped his lips around Arthur and suckled roughly.

Arthur let out a noise that sounded embarrassingly catlike as he cupped the back of Merlin’s, urging him to suckle harder, while the other hand lowered under the water to rub the bulge outlining the cock buried inside of him. Already he could feel those ridges kissing every inch of him inside, sucking and caressing, no doubt rewarding his body for accepting its length and girth with better ease. The feeling caused ripples of ticklish pleasure deep inside of him, and he trembled at this new sensation as each individual ridge suckled at his insides the same way Merlin’s lips did his nipple.

A choked sound cut through the fog of his quickly rising pleasure, and Arthur could not stop the snarl from escaping his lips as his gaze returned to Kay. “Why are you still here?”

Sir Kay merely continued staring at him with wide-eyed horror before he got up and stormed out of the tent.

Merlin’s lips left Arthur’s teat with a loud _pop_ before his gaze shifted to the other men, who had yet to move, to follow after Kay, to speak, to do _anything_. He raised an eyebrow at them impassively. “Is there anything else you would like to add to his complaints?”

“I do not know why they are here,” one of the men pointed to the others, “but I speak on behalf of Amata.” He cleared his throat. “We wish to seek an audience with you upon the morrow, once you have had your fill of your mate and have rested.”

“I represent Gwydnedd,” another of the men declared. “We also wish to seek audience upon the morrow.”

“As does Rheged,” the youngest of the group added.

“And Powys,” the other younger one announced.

Merlin’s gaze shifted to the two remaining. “I am assuming you are from Anglia and Elmet?” When the men nodded, he raised an eyebrow. “You also want an… audience… upon the morrow?” While Merlin’s expression was blank, Arthur could feel how confused and unnerved he was by this, and that only grew when the men nodded. “Fine. We will speak after breaking fast.”

“Thank you, Dragonlord,” the representative of Anglia lowered in a bow, as did the others. “We wish you and your mate a pleasant night.”

And with that, the men left.

Sophia stuck her head in. “Carry on, boys.” And with a flash of a grin she closed the flap once more.

Arthur had already urged Merlin’s mouth back as he began to rock his hips, fucking himself on his husband’s cock. Merlin’s teeth tortured that nub while his fingers squeezed and extended the other, causing Arthur’s body to spasm deep within in pleasure. The blonde still could not believe that his mate had filled him so quickly, so relatively easily, and he was still lost in the glory of this new development. He pushed up with his knees and then allowed gravity to do its part in bringing him back down, repeating this motion over and over again, feeling pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in his core every single time he slid back down and filled himself with that length.

His explosion of pleasure took him by complete surprise, his body spasming tightly around Merlin seconds before black spots danced before Arthur’s eyes and then everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

There were many things that Merlin had wished to speak to Arthur about before the morrow, but his lover had - very uncharacteristically - fainted during the very beginnings of their joint pleasure. To say Merlin had been worried was an understatement. He’d had Sophia call for Cassius, and even though they had many wounded from the battle Cassius had come immediately and had spent much longer than Merlin had expected examining Arthur. The length of his magical inquiry, and the utter silence that he was performing it with, made Merlin nearly insane. The demonic sigils on his body were visibly pulsating, something he’d never seen them do before, and he wondered what exactly that meant. Was it just a reaction to his intense emotional anguish or was it something else?

Sophia was in the tent with them as well by now, head tilted to the side as she eyed Arthur in intense scrutiny, clearly trying to hide the fact that she too was worried even as she rubbed Merlin’s shoulder in a ‘you need to keep your cool’ sort of way.

Finally Cassius’s magic disappeared from the hands he had levitated over Arthur’s body as he turned to face Merlin and Sophia, who both stood straighter once he did so. The older man eyed the two of them in silence before he took in a deep breath and turned his attention fully on Merlin. “The majority of the issue is exhaustion. I expected as much given the fact that he has been your sole source of feeding leading up to the battle, but that does not exactly seem to be the cause of the exhaustion, it would appear as if his body has channeled a great deal of terrifyingly strong power recently.”

Merlin flinched as he looked away. “That would be my fault.” He ran his clawed hands through his hair. “I used him as a living staff during the fight. My dragon had already established a connection with him, and as I am still in the process of trying to consume the years' accumulation of magic which has it trapped, I used Arthur as a lightning rod. I should have known that it would hurt him.” He snarled and looked away, disgusted with himself. “I keep on hurting him!”

“He’s not _hurt_ , Merlin,” Cassius assured him immediately as he glanced back down on Arthur’s unconscious form. “But there is… _something_.”

The cambion looked up at that in absolute terror. “What? What else did you sense while you examined him?”

Cassius glanced over at Sophia curiously. While to him (and everyone else who weren’t Arthur and Merlin) Sophia was just Lancelot’s half-fae cousin, Cassius was extremely sharp and seemed to have realized she had a connection to the twosome that went beyond what anyone else knew or understood. Then again, the fact that Sophia was here at all probably proved her importance.

Instead of answering Merlin’s question, Cassius took in a deep breath and turned to the cambion. “Did you manage to tell Arthur what happened tonight when Lancelot came for you? Does he know?”

Honestly, Merlin was more than a little annoyed that Cassius was bringing this up right now. When Lancelot had interrupted Merlin and Arthur in the tent and had asked to see Merlin alone, Merlin had left his mate the tub to wash himself and relax in, and had followed after his friend, more than intent on telling him off for interrupting given everything, but he had only stopped himself once he’d followed Lancelot into a different tent and found quite a couple of the knights and sorcerers of Mercia awaiting him there.

Walking through the camp in his true form, trying to ignore everyone's looks, had been unsettling, but coming here to find them waiting had been just as bad. He’d felt even more intimidated now that he’d realized he’d been ambushed. It had been a mistake to return to camp now that they knew what he was, how had he not seen that? Why had he allowed himself to believe that they would at least allow him to spend the night?

He hadn’t allowed himself to show his feelings though, he'd held his head high and raised an eyebrow and steeled himself for whatever was to come.

Merlin had not been even remotely ready for what had come.

“I do not see how this is relevant to what is happening right now,” Merlin replied darkly as he met Cassius’ gaze head-on.

“On the contrary, I think it is,” Cassius countered with a raised eyebrow.

Sophia glanced between them in open curiosity. “What are you two talking about?”

Cassius turned his gaze on her. “Earlier tonight, the surviving members of the Mercian Court pledged fealty to Merlin.”

Sophia’s eyes widened and she turned on her heel to face Merlin in absolute shock. “Does that mean what I _think_ it means?”

“If you believe it means you are in the presence of the King of Mercia, then _yes_ , it does,” Cassius drawled.

Merlin groaned and looked away, only barely managing to keep from covering his eyes with his hands.This was one of the many things he’d wanted to talk to Arthur about, and yet he had been so unnerved by the happening that he’d wished to find some comfort in his mate before actually telling him. He _had_ planned on telling him after their first tupping though, but they'd been continuously interrupted. First, the group of men had appeared, and then afterwards Arthur had very unceremoniously fainted, and, well, there had not been any time to actually tell his mate about what had happened. “I haven’t _accepted_ —.”

“This is not an issue of acceptance, Merlin, we are passed that,” Cassius interrupted, using that no-nonsense tone that betrayed his older age. “The Court’s fealty has been magically pledged, you have not been asked to become king, you have been _appointed._ And if I am being quite honest here, your surprise at the appointment is somewhat shocking. Do you not know that the Court has been divided for quite a while now? Most have always considered _you_ Bayard’s true heir, and had you shown even the slightest hint of a desire for kingship previously not only do I doubt that Valiant would have ever gotten the chance to wear the crown - but Queen Morgana and her child would have very quickly suffered ‘unfortunate’ accidents to pave the way for your coronation.” He stared into Merlin’s demonically black eyes as he uttered: “And I do not mean that that would have happened _after_ Bayard’s death, I mean to say that even had Bayard lived to a ripe old age - had you shown a desire to rule - Morgana and her child would have been done away with so as to assure your ascension to the throne upon Bayard’s death.”

“Do not be ridiculous,” Merlin scoffed, unable to believe that to be the case. Mercia loved Morgana, always had, and he refused to believe that they would have done anything to harm a hair on her head. Even when Valiant had assumed kingship Morgana had been treated with utmost respect. “Morgana’s child was Bayard’s true heir, he or she had the royal bloodline in their veins, no one would have—.”

“We are not _Camelot_ , Merlin, we are _Mercia_ , and for generations we have been losing our kings far too young. That never-ending loss has continued to put us in jeopardy,” Cassius reminded him darkly. “Everyone believed Bayard infertile, if you recall, and the prevailing consensus of the Court was that Morgana's child was not his. No matter what the assurances you and I could and would have given to the contrary, the doubts on the child’s parentage would never have dissuade, it would be seen as Owain’s bastard and nothing else. Do you _really_ believe the Court would have allowed the bastard child of a manservant to reign? Especially if there was a much stronger, darker, _powerful_ alternative? One who was versed in leading? One who they already had spent years looking towards as the successor? One who - with the child’s birth - would be free to be taken by _Camelot_ of all places? Do you even _understand_ the backlash that was generated when not only did Morgana assure Camelot’s autonomy, but Valiant _supported it_? Mercia knew what it would mean, and they were not happy.”

Merlin just _stared_ at the Court Physician, not sure how to respond to any of that. He had never desired leadership, had been more than happy assist Bayard in rebuilding Mercia, and _they had_. Together they had strengthened Mercia, had made it stronger, darker, more terrifying. Together they had made Mercia a place of nightmares for the outside kingdoms. He had never once thought, however, that the peoples’ actions towards him had been anything more than respect for his position as Grand Court Sorcerer. Had this not been the case? Had they truly believed him to be the successor?

“But they applauded Valiant’s efforts to build alliances with Camelot,” the cambion reminded in confusion. “They were happy to—.”

“Valiant promised the Court he would keep you in Mercia,” Cassius informed him point-blankly.

Merlin’s eyes widened in shock. “ _What_?”

“You were, quite understandably given the circumstances, left out of the series of talks which took place upon the recognization of Valiant as Heir.” Cassius ran his fingers tiredly through his hair. “Lancelot told me that Valiant promised the Court that he would tie you to Mercia, that he would make sure that even if Arthur left,  _you_ would not. Did his speech at the coronation not strike you as odd? He kept speaking of the two of you working together towards a common goal, towards fortifying and continuing to grow Mercia as a kingdom, and when you failed to counter his claims it pacified the Court into believing that he had cemented some sort of agreement with you. You also officiated his coronation despite the tension between the two of you, only the Grand Court Sorcerer officiates coronations.” He let out a heavy sigh. “It is true that the Court praised Valiant’s promises of brotherhood with Camelot, but they were only content with Camelot’s autonomy because they had been assured that while Arthur might leave,  _you_ would remain behind.”

Now that he thought back to the coronation, Merlin remembered being confused at Valiant’s wording, and he had even opened his mouth to try and interrupt, but the spell Tauren had activated in him had stopped him from doing so. Thinking back though, Merlin felt like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs.

“And after what I am being told was a _terrifying_ display of power exhibited in battle there is no universe in which this would not have become the obvious outcome, especially considering that, despite the fact that your true nature was clearly a shock to the Court, it has made them want you more. It only makes sense that the ruler of a kingdom who have so openly and eagerly embraced the darkest of arts be a creature of darkness himself.” Cassius raised an eyebrow, never one to mince his words. “Even if the news has not been made official as yet, even though there has been no coronation held, even though no crown rests upon your head as yet, you _are_ the King of Mercia. And, if we are to get technical, due to his bond with you, Arthur is unofficially the Queen of Mercia.”

“Don’t you mean King’s Consort?” Sophia asked curiously.

Cassius shook his head. “Historically in Mercia the title of Queen has not been used as a title for a woman, it merely denotes that the person is not the crowned ruler but his spouse,” he explained tiredly. “We are a kingdom of those who prefer their own gender, there have been _many_ male Queens who have sat on our throne, and have been considered the rightful parents of whoever the King begets to continue the royal lineage.” He motioned to Arthur. “So while Arthur might not prefer to use that title due to Camelot’s view of its meaning, as well as the fact that he himself is technically the King of Camelot… to Mercia… Merlin, ever since you returned from battle and were appointed as King, those in camp who are in the know have already started to refer to Arthur amongst themselves as the Queen.”

Sophia tapped her finger against her lips. “How exactly would ruling Camelot and Mercia work in this situation? There are kingdoms that lay between Mercia and Camelot. Escetia was different as it bordered Mercia and was thus easily annexed, this is not so with Mercia and Camelot. Also - Escetia became Mercia without issue, but I do not see Mercia or Camelot giving up their kingdom’s name for the other without a fight.”

While her questions were pressing, they were ignored as Merlin narrowed his eyes on Cassius. “What does that have to do with Arthur’s condition right now? What have you not said, Cassius? What are you hiding?”

The Court Physician sighed as he ran a hand down his tired face. “What I am trying to explain, Merlin, is that Arthur is not just your lover anymore, he is also my Queen. And as my duty is to tend to the Royal Family first, and the Court second… Merlin, I do not know how exactly to tell you this…”

“Cassius, you are my friend, but if you drag it out any further I will not be made accountable for my actions,” Merlin warned him as terror for Arthur’s well-being swarmed inside of him like a plague.

“Then I will come out and just say it then.” A groan escaped Cassius’ lips. “Merlin, Arthur is on the verge of entering into estrus, I believe that being used as the channel for your magic, coupled with the approaching dark moon, has not only anticipated it, but heightened the effects of it. It was this overstimulation, coupled with his body’s exhaustion, which caused him to faint, but it is your magic inside of him that is keeping him asleep right now, not just to give him time to recuperate, but to hurry along the process.”

Merlin just _stared_ at Cassius in confused disbelief. “This is not the time to be making jests, Cassius!”

“Believe me, this is _not_ a jest,” the man assured with a groan. “I do not know _what_ you and your magic have done to him, but the Queen will enter into estrus soon, and given that the timing coincides with the approaching dark moon… I feel nothing but absolute pity for him because it will be pure torture.”

Despite his assurance that this was not a jest, Merlin continued to look at Cassius, waiting for the physician to crack a smile or laugh or do anything to prove that he was joking.

Cassius did no such thing.

“Estrus…” Sophia peered between the two of them in utter shock before turning her attention fully on Cassius. “Are you saying Arthur is on the verge of _going into heat_?” She did not wait for him to confirm it. “How is that even _possible_? He’s _male_! He does not have a womb or anything that would be needed for—!”

“Live birth, I agree, he does not,” Cassius assured her. “But, well, while it is still very under-developed and - well, _under development_ \- it appears as if… there is an almost reptile-like… I have not seen this before in humans but it looks very much as if, once the process is complete - which I note will still take a while if we take into consideration the state of the development so far - well, Merlin, it appears as if Arthur’s body is being primed for… oviparity.”

Merlin’s eyes widened as his lips parted.

“ _It makes sense_!” Sophia exclaimed in utter glee, her voice a little bit shrieked as she turned to Merlin and grabbed his hands.

“How does this even _remotely_ make sense?” Merlin wanted to know, voice squeaked.

“You’re a _Dragonlord_ , Merlin, and he is _your mate_ ,” Sophia declared as if this should be obvious, the redhead thrumming visibly with excitement. “We might not be Dragons in the truest of forms, but we manifest draconic characteristics, such as scale display - and that is something that Arthur has actually already done. Mates are not supposed to be able to do that, but his ability to do so proves that he has connected with your draconic side to the point where he is physically manifesting draconic traits. It is probably due to his connection with your element.”

“What do you mean _we_?” Cassius asked in confusion.

Sophia ignored the question and continued on, staring up at Merlin. “Dragons are essentially magical lizards, Merlin. And lizards _lay eggs_.” She grinned. “Still though, for Arthur to have been so incredibly claimed, to be manifesting this greatly, it cannot be something subconscious, there is clear Intent if this is happening to him.”

Merlin stared down at Sophia in breathlessness before his gaze shifted onto his sleeping mate, memories of Arthur’s impassioned words during their mating coming back to shock him. He’d believed them mindless words of one disoriented in passion, or an odd kink, or, or, _no_. He had known Arthur’s desire but given how impossible it was Merlin had not truly allowed himself to think about it. And yet…

“Arthur’s wish,” he whispered in understanding, his voice shaky and breathy. “He speaks to my magic, he commands it, and he confided that he had asked something of it, and that he would not tell me what it was until it came true.” The world around him began to spin. “ _Arthur’s_ Intent did this.” He found it hard to breathe as sudden realization left him painfully (and incredibly inappropriately) hard. “He wants me to breed him _that badly_.”

“Honestly,” Sophia chuckled softly, “you might be all-powerful, Merlin, but your mate is the truly terrifying one out of the two of you.”

Merlin wholeheartedly agreed as he tore his gaze from Arthur’s sleeping face to instead look worriedly at Cassius. “Could it be possible? Could—could we conceive a human child in this manner?”

“No, you could not conceive a human child in this manner,” Cassius informed him immediately, “but considering _neither_ of you is technically human that is to be expected. I have never heard of something like this being possible, but if we could find more information on Dragonlords and their physiology I believe you both could, quite possible, conceive.” He let out a ragged breath, clearly coming to terms with this new possibility himself. “It will not be during this estrus, and perhaps not in his next, but as soon as the magic has concluded its work on Arthur I do believe that he might… conceive. How things would progress passed conception is a mystery to me right now, but I do believe you could very well give Mercia _and_ Camelot an heir without the use of a surrogate.”

Merlin stared at Cassius in wide-eyed wonder.

Arthur could one day have his child.

That inappropriate arousal grew, as did the need to join with his mate, no doubt influenced by both the demonic and the draconic within him who - upon the delivery of this news - both urged Merlin to send everyone away so they could join Arthur in bed and fuck him ever closer to estrus.

“Other than the Endless Orchards, there is _one place_ where you might find the answers you are looking for,” Sophia whispered suddenly.

“Endless Orchards?” Cassius asked in confusion.

Merlin turned to her and nodded, understanding what she was saying.

For the first time since what had happened to Balinor and Hunith, Merlin was going to have to return home.

* * *

Percy felt bad for the part he had had to play in Merlin’s ambush, but like the others he’d known that, especially without Valiant, this was the only thing they could do to try and salvage Mercia. No one else would be able to lead their kingdom, Merlin was the only hope that they had, and they needed him. It, of course, made things harder for him given Arthur was the future king of a different kingdom, but Percy was Mercian now that Escetia had joined with it, and he had to look after his kingdom and its people. That did not mean, however, that he did not feel incredibly guilty for what he had taken part in.

“Are the rumors true?” Mordred asked as he joined Percy’s side, eyes wide. “They’re saying that the Mercian Court has appointed Emrys as their king. Is this true?”

“How far are the rumors spread?” Percy wanted to know, trying to stall his answer.

“They _are_ true,” Mordred whispered in surprise as he sat down next to him on the log by the fire. “I heard people from Amata and Powys speaking about it. There was also a few people from Anglia, so I am going to assume that everyone in camp will know soon enough about what happened.”

Percy could feel Mordred’s gaze on his face, but he couldn’t look him in the eye, not yet, not knowing how faithful Mordred was to Merlin. “I had to do what was best for my kingdom. I cannot apologize for doing so.”

There was a sigh, and then Mordred nodded as he too turned his gaze on the fire. “This could cause problems in his relationship with Arthur given they are kings of two separate - separated - kingdoms.”

Nausea and nerves churned in his stomach. “Do you still wish to be Merlin’s?”

Mordred looked up at him quickly before clearing his throat and just as quickly returning his attention to the fire. “I _wish_ to remain living.” He must’ve felt Percy’s confusion because he huffed in annoyance. “You _saw_ Arthur, Percy. In the battle. If I am being quite honest he is terrifying.” He smirked darkly. “And even though this might cause problems for them I do not see Arthur allowing it to keep them apart.” His smirk grew as he cast a glance back at Percy. “If anything, I can see him giving up Camelot before he gave up Emrys.”

Percy frowned, still feeling incredibly guilty.

“Not that Camelot would _let_ him, of course,” Mordred admitted as he pursed his lips. “They will have no other ruler but him, they have made that plainly clear… as I supposed Mercia has done with Emrys.” He looked up at Percy with a strange glint in his eyes. “My people have legends about Emrys, you know.”

“What do those legends say?” Percy asked softly.

Mordred smiled and looked back towards the fire. “Just sit back and watch, I believe we are about to see them unfold.”

* * *

Arthur woke to the feeling of deliciously painful scraping deep within. He groaned in pleasure yet kept his eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around Merlin’s body, which was lying on top of him, pinning him to the makeshift bed and keeping him in place as Merlin moved inside of him. The ridges of his cock were incredibly hard yet not sharp points, not digging in but being used to scrape his insides with each movement, leaving Arthur’s inner body trembling from the overstimulation. The fullness inside of him proved that Merlin had found completion multiple times already, and a shiver of pleasure rocked through Arthur’s body at the thought.

“Is it odd that I am jealous of my body for being able to take pleasure in your caresses while my mind was instead afforded secondhand pleasure in sleep?” Arthur purred as he shifted beneath Merlin, inhaling his cambion’s scent, which was so incredibly unique and changed ever-so-often depending on his levels of arousal. Honestly, while Arthur’s scent seemed to calm Merlin, it did the complete opposite to Arthur, who always reacted with a shivered groan as goosebumps raised on his skin.

Merlin shoved his cock viciously inside and his ridges became barbs which hooked in deeply, causing the blonde to sob out wantonly. The cambion pushed up on his elbows so he could look down into Arthur’s face, and the look on his own left Arthur breathless. There was dark desire on that face, but that was not all, there was a fearful desperation, a pained curve to his lips. It looked as if it was taking all of Merlin’s self-control not to fuck him, the barbs digging more and more painfully inside of Arthur as if desperate to keep himself in place, and while it was painful, Arthur found his body begging for more.

“Arthur, we need to talk,” Merlin forced out, his voice hoarse, inhuman.

Those were never words one felt at ease hearing. Arthur shifted so as to lean up with his weight on his elbows as he stared up at his mate and steeled himself for whatever he was about to tell him - whatever had him so desperate. “What is it?”

Merlin peered down into his face before letting out a ragged breath. “I have been named Mercia’s king.”

Of all of the things Arthur had expected to hear, this had not even made the list! “ _What_?” His eyes widened as he just _stared_ openly at his mate. He had expected there to have been something huge, something not so nice given Merlin’s worry, and yet this had never even crossed his mind. Oddly enough, the idea that Merlin was about to tell him that some old lover had appeared and had had his child had popped into Arthur’s mind despite how ludicrous that scenario was! But _this_? How—what—why—? There were just so many questions racing through his mind at this revelation! And yet all he could manage to squeak out was: “You have been _what_?”

“Made king,” Merlin shortened with a deep, heavy breath, his worry very plainly written on his face as he stared down into Arthur’s face. “They made me king. They didn’t ask. They didn’t even _warn_ me. I entered the tent,they were all there, and then they pledged their fealty to me before I could even understand what was happening. Our fealty is binding, Arthur, we made it that way so that in certain circumstances when there is an—you know what? That doesn’t matter right now.” He hung his head with a heavy sigh. “What matters is that I have suddenly found myself with a kingdom.”

Arthur honestly couldn’t process this situation immediately, and it caused worry to clench tightly in his stomach. What exactly did this mean? Why had they chosen Merlin when Morgana technically had more of a right to the throne as the king’s widow? And why was Merlin so uneasy due to this sudden appointment? Sure, it was unexpected and it would give them a couple more issues to work around, but he could not see what about being Mercia’s king would leave Merlin staring at Arthur in such worry. The cambion watched Arthur with the same precaution one would something about to catch on fire and burn all to ash.

There had to be more to this situation. Had to be a reason why Merlin clearly thought, and was preparing himself, for Arthur to react very poorly to this news. And that did not make sense, at least not considering everything he knew thus far, which meant there _had_ to be some horrible detail he had not realized or picked up on as yet. But what could it be? Arthur couldn’t think of anything about this situation which could be so horrible.

Was there something else Merlin wasn’t telling him? Was this Dragonlord related? Or Cambion related? Was there something apparently obvious about the situation that Merlin just assumed he would know considering he was Camelot’s crown prince? Arthur tried to put himself in this position, and wondered about how Camelot would react, what they might expect, what they might try to push… and when he did he went pale immediately as anger and panic and possessiveness clutched at his lungs.

Did the Court want Merlin to leave Arthur since Arthur was supposed to rule Camelot? Did they consider Arthur and Merlin’s relationship a conflict of interests?!? There was no love lost between Mercia and Camelot as a whole, didn’t Morgana’s situation prove that despite the fact that the—-?

He then froze as another thought crossed his mind.

Did the Court expect Merlin to marry _Morgana_? It would make sense. It would not only help legitimize Merlin’s claim to the throne, but continue to force an alliance with Camelot given its princess was on the throne once more. And she had already proven herself able to conceieve a child, a child that they would want their king to have.

Darkness began to bubble inside of him as Arthur’s mind went down dark paths.

Was _that_ why Merlin was so anxious? Was he actually agreeing to this? Did he think _Arthur_ would _allow_ him to agree to it? Did he _really_ think that Arthur would not do anything to these new threats out of loyalty to his sister or the Court that had taken him in during his time of need?

Was Merlin truly _stupid?_

Pendragon blue eyes narrowed as a growl escaped his lips. He slammed his fists viciously into Merlin’s chest, and the cambion had clearly not been expecting it because he not only fell back, but the barbs released themselves, allowing him to hit the ground painfully. Arthur followed, not allowing the cambion to even digest the fact that he’d been shoved away before the blonde straddled his body and wrapped his hands threateningly around Merlin’s neck, very similarly to how Merlin had to _him_ during their fight before the battle.

Merlin’s eyes were wide, his lips parted, as he stared up at Arthur in speechless shock at the sudden attack.

“You are _not_ allowed to leave me, Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was soft, was calm, but he knew his expression was far from either. “I do not _care_ what duties Mercia might think you owe them. Your duty is, first and foremost, to _me_. I might just be your Consort in their eyes, but I am also your mate, and you _will_ marry me, Merlin. _You will_.” His grip did not tighten, but it trembled. “You will _not_ go back on your word to me. I will have _every_ title you can bestow upon someone, I will _not_ even _allow_ you to think otherwise. You are _mine_.”

The worry that had been etched on Merlin’s face since Arthur had awoken was completely gone now, instead replaced by open confusion. He didn’t look hurt or sad or scared, they both knew that Arthur was physically no match for him given his powers, so while Arthur’s physical threat clearly flew over his head and was taken with very little consideration, the intrigue and confusion visibly grew. “Arthur, you are going to have to explain to me exactly what you are angry about, because while I did not think you would be happy at the news, I am very sure you and I are worrying about completely different things.”

Annoyance and confusion twisted in Arthur’s gut as he let go of his hold around Merlin’s neck to sit back on his heels and glare down at his cambion. “If Mercia thinks I am going to allow you to marry my sister, or anyone else other than me, it will be sorely mistaken. You are _mine_ , Merlin. I will not share you. Not with a wife. Not with a kingdom. I will _not_ stand for _anyone_ or _anything_ to—.”

“ _Wife?_ ** _Morgana_** _? Where_ are you even _coming up_ with this scenario?” Merlin wanted to know, his confusion still very much there but now tempered with the beginnings of a tender smile as he reached up to cup Arthur’s cheek with the palm of his hand. “Arthur, I have no intention of marrying anyone but you. I _especially_ have no plans of marrying your sister! Or anyone else, for that matter. Just _you_.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled when Arthur rested his cheek harder into Merlin’s touch at that reassurance. “Everything you just warned me against - including you marrying someone else - is a threat I have been waiting to issue to _you_.” His lips twitched in amusement. “ _You_ are _mine_ , Arthur, and not only do I have no plans of leaving you, but I’d do horrible things if you ever thought you could leave me.” He let out a heavy sigh. “And _that_ is the problem.”

Now that he was reassured that Merlin wasn’t about to do something stupid like tell him they needed to be there for their own kingdoms and thus couldn’t be together anymore, or that he had to be with Morgana and have children with her or some other woman, Arthur just blinked as he rested a hand over the one Merlin had cupping his cheek. “I do not understand what the issue is.” He rubbed his cheek into that palm as he stared down at his mate. “I do not _want_ to leave you, and I would, quite honestly, hurt you if you tried to leave me, so what exactly do you think is a problem?”

“Camelot and Mercia are two very different kingdoms,” Merlin begun as he rubbed his thumb against Arthur’s cheek caressingly. “Culturally speaking _alone_ it is as if they live on opposite spectrums.”

“And yet they will find some sort of compromise once they become one nation,” Arthur interrupted, still not seeing the issue, and to be honest he was a little annoyed that Merlin hadblown things out of proportion and allowed him to nearly have a heart attack for nothing. If his issue was what would happen once the kingdoms were consolidated into one, well, every enterprise had its teething phase. They would work through theirs. Already he had plans on speaking to Sir Kay (and any other knight who might voice concerns) personally - soon - so that they would know that Arthur would not allow another incident like the previous one to occur again. “And before you bring up the fact that they are separated by different kingdoms I will point out that we can either (a) conquer the other kingdoms to give us a united nation, or (b) use magic to find a way of making travel to and from each kingdom easier. We could rule six months in Camelot and six months in Mercia.”

There was some silence as Merlin just observed him in open fascination, which morphed into amusement yet obvious pride. “You are taking this a lot better than I did, My Love. One can tell that you were raised to lead, where I see problems you see progress.” That pride grew. “I must learn from you in this regards.”

“You worry a lot, Merlin, it is in your nature as a strategical advisor, you have learnt to think of all of the things that could go wrong so as to find ways to avoid and/or get passed them,” Arthur informed him with a little chuckle, his mood vastly improved now that he knew for sure that Mercia wasn’t trying to get in their way like Camelot had earlier. “I, on the other hand, am more spontaneous than that, and have been taught the way of battle and conquering. It’s why we’re good with each other, we level the other out.”

“Beauty, brains _and_ brawn,” Merlin chuckled as he lowered his hands to rub circles on Arthur’s hips in a slow seductive move that made Arthur’s body pulsate with instant desire. “If _you_ have it all, what exactly are you getting out of this partnership, My Love?”

While there were countless things that Arthur could name, he was still feeling a little petulant about Merlin allowing him to descend into panicked worry over nothing, so instead of answering truthfully, Arthur merely pointed out one of his _favorite_ things that he got out of being with Merlin.

Merlin jolted in pleasure when Arthur did his best to wrap both his hands around the demonic cock yet was far from successful. “Is that so?” His lips twitched, clearly amused and aroused by Arthur’s cheeky, non-verbal response. “Just that?”

“Just that,” Arthur lied openly, lips twisted in a mischievous smile.

In seconds Merlin had their positions reversed, with Arthur’s back hitting the bedroll seconds before he was rearranged more on his side, allowing Merlin to straddle his thigh while hooking Arthur’s other leg over his shoulder, and baring the blonde to him. “Just this?”

Lips parted as Arthur intended to stubbornly insist his point, but when Merlin shifted back enough to align himself at Arthur’s entrance only to rub temptingly against it, the only thing that escaped Arthur’s mouth was a whine.

“You know, the first time I tried to breach you in this form I believed it a dream, because how else could something like this fit in so tight a hole?” Merlin pushed teasingly against Arthur’s quivering ring, his tapered head slipping in and the pained pleasure it produced caused Arthur to let out a sound he himself knew would make a whore proud. “And yet your body adapts to fit mine so perfectly. Already I can feel you trying to suck me in further, your body is wantonly drawing me deeper.” He smacked Arthur’s ass roughly.

A hiss escaped Arthur’s lips as he arched his hips, which was apparently what Merlin’s had been expecting, because the moment he did his body burned pleasurably as Merlin forced more of himself inside. Arthur’s body was sore, and yet even then it truly _was_ trying to draw Merlin deeper into him. The blonde could feel it, feel the emptiness aching.

“There is also a matter that I spoke with Daegal about earlier,” Merlin declared in a low tone, clearly realizing that anything to do with Daegal was a tricky subject where Arthur was concerned. “It is a matter you should know of as it will affect you as well.”

At Daegal’s name Arthur narrowed his eyes immediately as he pushed up on his elbows. “What does the little pipsqueak want?”

Sighing, Merlin turned his head to nibble on Arthur’s inner calf. “I understand that you do not like him, Arthur, but given everything you will have to be a little less openly hostile towards him.”

“What do you mean ‘given everything’?” Arthur wanted to know as he fully tensed and glared at Merlin.

“Earlier, during the battle, I conjured dragons of darkness,” Merlin announced instead of answering, pressing his hips slowly yet surely harder into Arthur, forcing the boy’s body to open up to him. “Do you know how I was able to do that?”

If Arthur was being honest parts of the battle were hazy to him, but he _did_ remember the huge and terrifying dragons that had come out of the void. He himself had felt no fear though, having instinctively known that matter how fierce or murderous the dragons appeared to be, they would not harm him.

“My draconic magic is going to be freed soon, already I can feel the shell it is trapped in being eaten away. It will take a while before it is completely consumed - for it was a Dragonlord spell of retainment that was fed and strengthened for many _many_ years, but now that I know what I am, and have a better understanding of what that means… I now have the ability to free myself. It will just take some time.” Merlin sent him a sideways glance that made Arthur both hard and intimidated. “What do you know about the place that you came to without permission?”

“The Endless Orchards?” Arthur asked in confusion, having overheard a few of the changelings calling that place that name. His body was sore and burning with tingling, disorienting heat as it accepted more and more of his mate, and yet his mind was telling him that this was something that he needed to pay attention to. It was honestly a little overwhelming, but he forced himself to concentrate on Merlin’s words. “I’m assuming it is the realm of the fae? What does that have to do with the dragons you conjured or summoned?”

“The Endless Orchards is just one of the many names that place has,” Merlin declared in an odd tone as he traced the tip of his tongue against Arthur’s ankle. “One you may be a little more familiar with is _Avalon_.”

Arthur froze, eyes wide, not even the pleasure he was feeling able to distract him from the monumental revelation. “ _Avalon_?” He could smack Merlin for the amused grin his shock was causing to curl on those lips. “ ** _Avalon_** _?_ ” Of _course_ he was more familiar with this name! He’d grown up hearing stories about the supposedly mythical island which was filled with magic unlike anything that still remained upon the earth! According to Nimueh, the magic in Albion not only originated from Avalon, but continued to exist - to thrive - because of it. He’d considered the hidden island nothing more than a story witches and warlocks told humans, it had been as real to him as Cambia for crying out loud! And yet _he’d been there_ in person _and hadn’t even realized_!

“According to Daegal, Avalon was hidden by the Dragonlords right before they lost Albion, to keep the island and the beings who live there safe from those who would try and claim it as their own.” Merlin was nearly fully seated within him, and the lowering of his tone into gruffness proved just how pleasurable he found the slow invasion. “We are its caretakers, and since my father’s murder there has been no one tending to the orchards, and they have begun to wither. I am still learning much about this, but even I know that it cannot be good for Albion for the Endless Orchards to become barren and desolate. As Avalon’s new caretaker it is my duty to make sure that the lands become _fertile_.” At that last word he shoved his hips in roughly, finally burying himself completely within Arthur. “For that I will need your help."

“H-How do we do that?” Arthur wanted to know, hating the stutter in his voice which betrayed the fact that while he knew this whole Avalon business was dire, he really was losing himself to the pleasure of being filled. Even despite that he found himself losing the battle and possessively stroking the bulge in his stomach, like he did every single time he was filled.

“You might not like what I have to say,” Merlin admitted softly.

Even though he was worried by that, Arthur continued to stroke the bulge in his stomach, and let out a guttural moan when Merlin’s cock pulsated viciously in response to his caresses. “Wh-why? Just te-tell me, Merlin.”

A sigh escaped his lips. “Do you remember while we were on the crusade? When we spoke of Daobeth?” Merlin reached down and wrapped his fingers around Arthur’s cock, stroking it torturously slowly. “I want to do that.”

It took Arthur a little longer than he would like to admit to understand what Merlin was saying, but that was mostly due to the overwhelming pleasure he was receiving. But when he realized _what_ Merlin was saying, his eyes widened, and he forced his mind out of the lust-filled haze. “You want to close Avalon off? But it is already—-…” and then he froze. “Not just Avalon. You mean Mercia and Camelot as well.”

Merlin nodded, his face blank yet his dark eyes boring into Arthur. “To the rest of Albion it will appear like Daobethwith impenetrable walls, but I wish to join Mercia and Camelot to Avalon. That way we can equally concentrate on Mercia and Camelot’s integration, as well as work together to restore Avalon. I’d find a way so that our allies could communicate with us should they need to, but otherwise we would be inaccessible until the issues we are facing have been fixed.”

“You can… _do that_? Join Mercia and Camelot physically to Avalon like that?”

“My ancestors separated Avalon from Albion, I should be able to join it partially once more, but it will take a lot out of me to do so,” Merlin admitted, looking embarrassed at what he obviously felt was weakness on his part.

Honestly, even though Merlin was half demon, his power sometimes left Arthur breathless in awe. He didn’t understand the many times Merlin doubted himself. His mate was utterly terrifying sometimes, and he did not mean his visage. The amount of power that Merlin had the potential to wield should he choose to do so - be provoked to do so - was utterly mind-blowing to even consider, and that was that Merlin was untrained. If Merlin could learn more, if he could truly train, Arthur doubted that there would be anything that his mate could not do.

“If you could do this - why were you worried about Camelot and Mercia’s distance to each other?” Arthur wanted to know.

Merlin looked somewhat sheepish. “To be honest, I was worried you would not want the total isolation for such an extended period of time, and if that were the case…”

Arthur’s confusion melted into sudden displeasure. “If that were the case _what_?” He knew exactly what Merlin wasn’t saying, though, and it pissed him off greatly. “If that were the case you would not have joined Camelot to Avalon? Just Mercia? You would have allowed me to stay behind in Camelot while you holed up in Avalon _with Daegal_?”

“It would not have been _with him_ , but he would have been there, I suppose,” Merlin mumbled, seeming completely oblivious to the fact that Arthur was currently, quite truthfully, debating which of the many plans he’d devised to deal with Mordred would be best applicable to Daegal. “And I did not mean I would leave you in Camelot, I meant what I told that jealous puppy of yours: you are mine and I am keeping you by my side, whether you like it or not.” He sighed. “I just did not want you to _not_ want it.”

While he was relieved to hear that Merlin had not been planning on leaving him behind in Camelot while he handled Mercia and Avalon, Arthur was confused. “Jealous puppy? Do you mean Sir Kay?”

Merlin’s eyebrow raised. “Who else?”

The blonde scoffed in annoyance at the insinuation. “It is protectiveness and loyalty. We grew up together, his father was one of my father’s most faithful, he was the Head Knight of Camelot, and I suppose Sir Kay was groomed to take over his position, so he is taking it far too seriously.”

There was a moment’s silence as Merlin stared down at him before he looked away and, instead of saying whatever was on his mind, chose to lavish his attention on Arthur’s calf.

Honestly, Arthur enjoyed the attention, but he did not enjoy the realization that Merlin was holding back on him. They were very different in this regards. While Arthur was very vocal and hotheaded when it came to the mere idea of a rival, Merlin was more introverted, and definitely wasn’t as outwardly demonstrative of what went on in his mind. Whereas Arthur expelled each and every emotion, Merlin bottled them up. It was this fact that had Arthur staring at him in contemplation. “Do you really think it was jealousy?”

“Honestly, Arthur, even if it was I could not blame him,” Merlin admitted with a sad little smile. “You are perfection. Anyone who truly gets to know you would find it impossible _not_ to fall in love with you.”

He flushed hotly, both pleased with the ever-constant reminder of the fact that Merlin saw him through rose-colored glasses, and annoyed that Merlin was clearly wondering - once more - just what Arthur was doing with him. Why in the world did his mate not see his own self-worth? It was utterly bewildering!

“Given my cambion physiology, you will always have to deal with people who have been tricked by my pheromones and seduction-based biology into believing they have feelings for me,” Merlin admitted wryly, clearly disgusted with himself for the inhuman traits he’d inherited from his mother. “The least I can do is also offer you the same understanding you have towards me, especially considering that unlike me, those who develop feelings for you truly _do_ feel those emotions.”

Merlin sounded like he was one emotion-filled gulp away from telling Arthur he could have a lover if he truly wished for one, and if Merlin did that Arthur would beat the stupid out of him once and for all. It wasn’t even the fact that Arthur loved Merlin that made that potential offer utterly disturbing, because while he really _did_ love him, just the _thought_ of being with someone else made Arthur nauseated. As in literally. As in he felt _genuinely_ sick at the idea of being physically intimate if the person was not Merlin. One might argue that Arthur’s experiences with Valiant had made him fearful of someone else’s touch, but Arthur had had some experience in Camelot before being taken prisoner, so one could not truly say it was because any other experience other than Merlin had been traumatizing. He truthfully did not understand the reason behind his violent distaste for being touched if not by Merlin, but it did not bother him either.

“Both my draconic and demonic natures demand that I completely obliterate, without exception, all who dare look at you with desire,” Merlin admitted softly with a very self-hating smile on his face. “And yet if I did so how hypocritical would that make me given what I am and what I feed on to survive?” He hid his face in Arthur’s calf, visibly taking deep whiffs of his scent while closing his eyes tightly in turmoil. “Should I not constantly battle my darker impulses, my instinctive reactions, should I not suppress the bestial nature threatening to take over and not only mark you as my sole territory but cut down any potential rival in a terrifying, grotesque manner which would serve as a warning to all who dared desire you… surely you would come to hate me for the isolating and alienating results of such barbaric, inhuman acts, and I would not blame you.” He closed his eyes so tightly it almost looked painful. “I can handle the distrust, disgust, and hatred of all… but not you. Never _you_.”

Arthur unhooked his calf from Merlin’s shoulder and shifted as best as he could to slap the cambion across the face with all of his might, leaving a red mark against the pale cheek. His palm stung from the force he’d put behind the blow. “I do not think I heard you correctly, you will have to speak up, because you almost sounded as if you were dripping with self-pity, but I doubt my mate would behave in that manner. Especially not when we have just won a great war and have so many plans for the future. So _clearly_ your mumbling made me hear things incorrectly.”

Hand to his (no doubt) stinging cheek, Merlin frowned at him in visible confusion that was slightly tempered by the way his skin paled deeper and his demonic sigils darkened instinctively. “It is not self-pity, Arthur.” His gaze lowered down Arthur’s chest distractedly, resting on Arthur’s nipples, and instinctively Merlin licked his lips, as if he want to taste them again.

Desire zinged its way down Arthur’s body, causing a heated flush to battle with raised goosebumps, his cock to twitch, and his nipples to harden. The only thing Merlin seemed to notice were his nipples though, because almost instantly his cambion’s breathing got heavier as he gulped.

Merlin’s gaze suddenly widened, as if he’d only just caught himself staring, and he forced his gaze up from Arthur’s chest to meet his eyes once more. “What I am trying to say is that I understand the truth of what I am, and I am trying to tell you that I do not expect you to always be so—-.”

Disappointed that Merlin had managed to tear himself out of whatever lust-filled trance he’d been falling into, Arthur shifted his weight on his other elbow and swung with his non-dominant hand, palm connecting with Merlin’s other cheek just as roughly as it had during his first slap. Like the other palm, this one stung from the force he’d put behind the blow, yet he refused to show it and detract from the message he was trying to send. It had taken him a while, (especially at first) to understand what made Merlin tick, and while Arthur still did not completely understand Merlin himself (or appreciate his ever raging self-hatred and self-doubt) Arthur was very proud of the way he was ever learning more and more how to get his cambion back on track and on the straight and narrow. True, his methods were unorthodox, but one could not argue the results.

With his goal in mind, the blonde kept his blue gaze neutral yet curled his lips to an innocent - and utterly provoking - smile. “What was it that you did not expect me to always be so?”

Merlin’s lips parted, his breathing accelerated, and his hands lowered to grip Arthur’s hips. Both of his cheeks were red from the ferocity behind the blows, and yet the splotches of color beginning to tint his otherwise moon-pale skin, mixed with the heaviness of his breaths, and the way his black gaze consumed Arthur, proved that anger, hurt - or even self-pity - were far from the emotions coiling within him at the moment.

When Merlin spoke, his voice was lower, gruffer, had a bit of coarseness that did incredible things to Arthur’s insides every time he heard it. “Arthur, I do not—-.”

Now that Merlin was not rubbing his cheek, Arthur switched back to his dominant hand and slapped, hard, the smack echoing in the tent as Merlin’s face swung. His own breathing accelerated as Merlin growled deep in his throat, the sound more of a purr than a threat as the cambion instinctively shifted slightly to lean closer to Arthur, bringing their faces closer together. There was dark hunger in that face, and the sight of it made Arthur’s voice waver in delight. His mate was very close to snapping and attacking Arthur like an animal might, and the blonde shivered in mounting anticipation as he purposefully poked the dangerous creature with a metaphoric twig.

“How odd, I seem to be having problems hearing,” Arthur declared with breathy desire, knowing his mate could see it all written wantonly on his face even as Arthur continued to smile with that faux innocence. “Why don’t you try telling me it one more time? Maybe I’ll hear you better this time.”

Clearly Merlin opened his mouth with the intention of telling Arthur something, but the blonde would never know whether Merlin would’ve tried to spew out those detested sentences again or not, because words never actually emerged from his mate’s lips. Instead, a guttural whimper escaped seconds before Merlin closed his eyes and lowered his head as a shiver visibly rippled down his body. The cock he had lodged deep inside of Arthur throbbed uncontrollably, betraying just how close to losing himself, to losing any semblance of rationality or self-control, Merlin was.

Arthur swung once more, his groan choked and joining Merlin’s when his mate’s cock pulsated relentlessly inside of him in response. A shiver of pleasure made Arthur feel weak but he fought against the desire to lay back down and claw Merlin into movement. He had a point to make, damn it! And even if he could not quite remember _what_ point it had been, that did not matter! He swung again, even harder than before, and sobbed when the cock inside of him throbbed so hard it moved his hips.

Looking up at Merlin through eyes which were quickly fogging over in mounting desire, Arthur let out a little cry at the expression on his mate’s face. His body instinctively became weak at the elbows, causing Arthur to realize just how desperate he was for his mate that just _one look_ could make his body automatically assume the position. He gulped down the whimper rolling in his own throat, desperate to emerge from his lips, and he swung again. And again. And again. Each time the corresponding pulse from his mate’s cock made Arthur a little weaker, a little closer to fighting himself than his lover.

Merlin’s face swung with the blows, his cheeks were incredibly red, and his eyes… they were the darkest pools of black Arthur had ever seen. With each blow Merlin’s breathing grew harder, heavier, until his chest was visibly working with each breath, and he sounded like one who had run endlessly for miles. With each blow Merlin leaned closer and closer to Arthur, forcing the blonde to lean further and further back on his elbows. With each blow Merlin’s cock reacted harder and harder, forcing those hardened ridges to scrape against Arthur’s softest places and cause jolts of electric delight and need to converge in his core and soak their way down the rod buried inside of him in open betrayal of his pleasure.

Despite his bravest attempts to keep this going, Arthur knew he would very quickly lose this battle, so he had to hand the finishing blow while he still could remember how to think, much less talk.

“What were you saying?” Arthur asked in mock confusion as he stared up at his mate with what he knew was a dark little smile. “I am _so sorry_ for asking you to repeat yourself again, but I really am finding it very hard to understand you tonight.”

Merlin didn’t react except to stop breathing heavily within a second. He just stared at Arthur with the ferocity and silence of a predator about to attack.

Trembling in anticipation, Arthur swung again, but this time his wrist was caught, and in seconds he was shoved down, both his wrists captured and held in one of Merlin’s hands,pinned against the ground above his head. The prince barely managed to hit the bedroll before Merlin’s lips found his in a kiss as vicious as the sudden thrust into his over-stimulated body.

Merlin’s mouth fused against Arthur’s, muffling the screams that burned Arthur’s throat as his body was rocked into the bedroll with each merciless thrust. Arthur still didn’t quite understand it. Didn’t understand how something unforgivable in most relationships not only hardened Merlin like nothing else, but made Arthur’s body gush in unabashed desire. Not only was seeing Merlin’s red cheeks enough to cause Arthur’s tight ring to clench, but the marks all over Merlin’s body, all in various stages of healing, betraying Arthur’s teeth and nails, not only heightened the sensations deep within Arthur but made him growl in displeasure at the fact that many of those marks were healing, were fading.

It had taken Merlin’s comment to Sir Kay for Arthur to realize _why_ he kept biting and clawing his marks all over Merlin’s body: they were the mark of Arthur’s ownership, of his dominion, they were the equivalent of a brand. Each scratch, each bite, proved that Merlin was Arthur’s, was his to do with as he wished, his _completely_ , _utterly_ , **his,** all the way down to his blood. It was Arthur’s. _He_ was Arthur’s.

Just like Arthur was Merlin’s. Just like Arthur’s inner body was scraped and tortured and quivering from overstimulation as that monstrous cock carved its home out and reminded Arthur’s body quite brutally of its purpose. It still shocked Arthur sometimes that not only could his lover’s cock fit inside of him, but that it wasn’t torture. Something this size, something this fulling, something that reached so deep within and bulged outwards so physically… it should be _hell_ to have within his body, and yet Arthur doubted that he could ever find pleasure if it weren’t by this inhuman root. Even Merlin’s human size, while pleasurable, left Arthur aching for the utter dominion his true form exerted over Arthur’s body.

From the first moment Arthur had seen that cock his body had somehow known its place. Instead of being horrified or terrified, Arthur had just _needed_ it inside of him, no matter how much he’d needed to struggle to get it in. And that instinctive need only grew worse and worse each time that massive rod made absolute putty out of his body.

The sounds Merlin made as he shifted to use both hands to pin Arthur’s on the bedroll while slamming into him were far from human. Arthur had gotten a split second’s gaze into his lover’s face before Merlin had buried it in Arthur’s neck, and hadn’t managed to see even a hint of his lover’s humanity. Merlin was a beast in a rut, fucking mercilessly into Arthur’s sopping hole. Arthur could feel Merlin whispering against his neck, could feel the breath from each word being hissed into him, but he couldn’t make out what his mate was saying.

Closing his eyes tightly, Arthur tried to concentrate on what his cambion was saying, and while at first it was just muffled incoherence, he started to catch a couple of snarled words.

“Relax… your womb… let me… in deeper…” Merlin slammed in rougher with each breath. “Gonna… breed you… make you… my bitch.”

Unable to stop the loud whine from tearing itself from his mouth, Arthur obeyed, doing his utmost to relax his muscles despite the cock thrusting violently inside of him. He bent his knees on either side of Merlin’s body, planting his heels deep into the floor, using this position to lift his hips and allow a smoother, deeper slide that had both him and Merlin sobbing at the first thrust in this new position.

“Gonna give you… more seed… left so much already… while you slept… but need to seed you… need to seed you!” Merlin’s breaths were ragged as he let go of Arthur’s wrists to instead grab purchase on his shoulders, keeping the boy’s body trapped in place as he slammed himself harder and harder inside of him, this position allowing him to force his way in deeper and deeper with each thrust.

Arthur’s yowl was choked and breathless as his body tingled deep within.

 ** _Need to… tell him…_** Merlin’s thoughts pierced through Arthur’s mind for the second time, surprising the blonde with their intensity. **_Need… need to control myself… enough to… need to tell him…_**

Despite his pleasure, worry curled in Arthur’s stomach at those thoughts. _Tell me_ _what_?

Merlin eyed widened in shock as he froze. **_You can hear me?_**

Arthur met his eyes with his own shocked ones. _You can hear_ _me_? He then shook his head, deciding to come back to this point later as he held his lover’s gaze. _What_ _do you need to tell me?_

Merlin didn’t answer. Not with his mouth. Not with his thoughts. But suddenly images assailed Arthur, incredibly fast and vivid, planting him within memories which were not his own and yet felt very much as if they were. It was hard to truly be in awe and confusion of this new development though, because the subject of those memories was by far the most important thing to Arthur.

Once the images finally disappeared, leaving him once more pinned under Merlin, Arthur stared up at the cambion, breathless. Whenever the topic of children came up Merlin had always been very quick to point out that having their own would be impossible, and even though Arthur had put the Intention out with every fibre of his being and claimed it was bound to happen, a very small part of him had been fearful it would never be the case. And yet, here he was, with proof that his greatest desire, his most fervent and secret of wishes, was starting to come true.

Arthur’s voice was soft in hope, and a bit of confusion, as he whispered: “ _Eggs._ ” He did not worry over the heat issue, this was by far more important right now. “H-how exactly would that work? Would I cluck an egg out and then have to sit on it for nine months?” While he was trying for humor, a very big part of Arthur was being completely serious with that question. How in the world was this actually supposed to work? He needed to know, needed to prepare - both himself _and_ their kingdom!

“Not quite sure,” Merlin admitted with a dark smile. “I suppose your body will create the egg deep within you right before you go into heat, and I will spend your entire estrus fertilizing it. Who knows… it could be there right now, just _waiting_ for my seed to give it life.” He grabbed Arthur by his hips and lifted his lower body to allow for deeper, rougher, penetration. “Shall we do it, Arthur? Shall I leave you with child?”

A part of Arthur had always felt he was the only one who wanted the ‘impossible’ to be true and for them to have a child together, and yet as he stared into Merlin’s face, which betrayed his feverish desire, the blonde trembled at the starving ferocity he saw there. It almost felt as if Merlin’s humanity was completely gone and all that remained was the inhumanity, and the inhumanity looked very much like it did not actually need or want Arthur’s permission. The most primal part of Merlin wanted this with unflinching aggression, had proved his query regarding Arthur’s desires irrelevant given just how many times Merlin had made sure to seed Arthur before he’d awoken. Merlin was going to breed him whether Arthur wanted to be bred or not.

Dark pleasure shivered its way down Arthur’s spine as he clenched around Merlin provokingly. “Suckle me ready, husband.”

A snarled whine escaped Merlin’s lips as he eagerly obeyed.

* * *

Sophia honestly admired the way those two could just go at it the way they did.

She stood guard outside the tent, more than a little intrigued by the fact that she was not the only one. Those who the jolts of darkness had taken over during the battle were during the same, although they were doing it more subtly than she was. Whatever the jolts of darkness had done to them still seemed to be affecting them, and that fascinated her, especially considering the sheer number of them, and the fact that they spanned members of all the kingdoms that Camelot had taken during the war.

The knights of Camelot who had lived in Mercia were also stationed around the tent, and were watching the others with obvious distrust considering they had been the enemy during battle, but if there were any that needed to be worried about it was the ones who had not been touched by the darkness - ones like that arrogant young knight who had forced his way into the tent.

He’d be problems. She could just _smell_ it on him.

‘ _Again_!’ Arthur could be heard ordering in desperation from within. ‘Give me more, Master! Fill me until I _leak_.’

‘You **_will not_ ** leak,” Merlin snarled throatily. ‘You will soak in every milky drop until my child is conceived.'

The knights, soldiers and sorcerers all around them definitely could not only hear the rutting and the conversation, but Arthur's cry of delight at his husband’s order. Those from Camelot looked quite excited, clearly cheering their prince on and whispering amongst themselves that perhaps tonight the heir would be conceived. Those from Camelot who had _not_ lived in Mercia, however, looked utterly embarrassed and confused, and turned to those who _had_ lived in Mercia for some sort of clarification. The others there, the ones who had been touched by the darkness, merely continued to stand guard and not allow anything to distract them from their post.

They stayed there for hours, listening to those two go at it like rabbits - or incubus, she supposed. Honestly, Sophia didn’t get how Arthur could handle it, then again he wasn’t just any human, he was a true mate, and one who was so at-one with Merlin’s magic that he was being changed to such a drastic degree. Surely, if Arthur’s physiology was being altered by magic enough to make the whole egg thing a reality… then surely he was also being made more durable to better take the endless rutting one should expect from a cambion mate.

Still, when much later, a little while after things had finally gone silent, Arthur emerged from the tent looking refreshed and not the least bit sore, she felt incredible awe and deep respect.

“Merlin’s sleeping,” Arthur declared, gaining _even more_ respect from her given the fact that he’d apparently worn out a cambion yet he himself still had strength and energy. “Walk with me, we need to talk.”

“I was there when Merlin found out,” Sophia assured him. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He smiled for a second before forcing his face neutral. “But that is not what I want to talk to you about.” Arthur looked around in unease. “Perhaps we should not leave with Merlin asleep. He would be vulnerable to an attack.”

“I doubt it, you cannot see it, but his darkness is touching quite a couple of these men,” Sophia admitted. “You saw them fight for him in battle, and I believe they are still under that control.”

“So they’ll protect him,” Arthur realized, his face betraying his surprise. He then cleared his throat and turned to face her once more as he motioned for her to follow. “Come then, we need to talk.”

Nodding, Sophia followed.

* * *

The joy of being freed from King Aurelius’ tyranny, and being reunited with their rightful ruler, should have filled Kay with overwhelming happiness, and yet while he was happy for the aforementioned things, a dark cloud overshadowed the joyous occasion. While Kay and most of the knights had been forced into serving Aurelius, Prince Arthur had been left to the ‘mercy’ of Mercia, and while Kay had hoped that those who had escaped to Mercia as well would keep an eye on him and protect him - people such as Sir Elyan - clearly that had not been the case at all.

Not only had those who had spent the last couple of months in Mercia failed to protect Arthur, but they had been seduced by the savage kingdom, or, perhaps they had been ensorcelled as well. Either way, knights he’d thought he’d known and could trust had filled in those who’d been trapped in Camelot on what had happened to their prince during their absence… and they had not seemed at all disturbed or even ashamed of what they reported.

Clearly Arthur’s vulnerability had been taken advantage of by the monstrous court, and their ‘ally’ had used his situation to their advantage to finish breaking him. When Arthur had been rescued from his imprisonment in Mercia the first time Kay had not recognized the blonde at all. It was clearly still Arthur, and yet it wasn’t the boy that Kay had grown up idolizing. Gone was the well-earned arrogance, the smirk that was legendary in the castle, gone was the Arthur who laughed and trained and teasingly tormented the servants with Kay and the rest of his inner circle. Gone was the person Kay had not only grown up knowing, but had spent most of his time with in the castle. Gone was his friend, his prince. Gone was the blonde who Kay had once known better than anyone else.

In his place was a sullen, withdrawn person who did not receive visitors, did not want to leave his room, and when _he did_ leave his room, he was clearly holding himself apart from everyone else. Arthur wouldn’t sneak out to the taverns with Kay and the others of his inner circle like he once had, he didn’t join in when they teased the servants, didn’t listen to their stories, didn’t offer any of his own. Mercia had broken something inside of Arthur, and Kay had hated them even more than he already had, especially since no matter what he did he could not reconnect with Arthur, who seemed very unconcerned with him or his existence.

Rumors began to surface about what Arthur had been forced to suffer while in captivity, and the rumors made Kay sick to his stomach. Surely not even _Mercia_ would have dared to degrade the Prince of Camelot in such a manner such as to force him into sexual slavery to one of their own! And yet, what else could have broken Arthur this way other than that disgrace being forced upon him for months without end? It was to the point that he appeared completely disinterested in human contact. King Uther had brought in women of looser morals to be Arthur’s chambermaids, and had then scandalized the kingdom by bringing in some boy whore, and there had been the knights who had offered themselves - and yet Arthur had refused everyone, hell, he had seemed quite blind to the come-ons or utterly disgusted and disinterested. No matter what everyone - anyone - had done, Arthur had sunk deeper and deeper into what Gaius had called ‘a very dark depression’ but Kay had known was truly either some sort of curse, or just being broken.

The only time Kay had seen some life returning to those haunted, blank, empty blue eyes was when King Uther declared they would have to make a truce with Mercia. Kay had seen the fury, the murderous rage, in Arthur’s eyes, and had rejoiced because at least there was a spark of the old him there. The young knight had awaited Arthur to pull him aside and relay the plan he was obviously cooking up, just like he always would, and yet Arthur never included Kay in any of his plans, never even seemed tempted to.

And then the Butcher of Mercia had been discovered to be the same monster who had broken Arthur, and Kay’s suspicions about Arthur being ensorcelled were proven correct when Arthur immediately came back to life upon this discovery. Clearly the sorcerer had done something, used some sort of spell, on Arthur once more, using their closeness to… to… to _something_. Kay had wanted nothing more than for Arthur to finally come to him and ask him to kill the Butcher for him, since it would be easily traceable to Arthur if he himself did it, and yet Arthur never approached Kay, he never even seemed to notice him. In fact, Arthur was even less aware of Kay than he had even been before. But that was okay, it meant Kay had been able to watch in secret and see so many things which had assured him that the Butcher was the reason for every thing wrong with Arthur.

When the Butcher seemed to start to favor Mordred, and had left with him, Kay had hoped the man’s attention turning to the bastard druid would be enough to have him end the spell over Arthur, and in a way it had appeared to be so. Arthur had remained lively, light and fire burning behind his eyes, but despite this, and Arthur joining the knights’ training as he had before his capture, there had been a clear divide between them. Kay had fought so hard to get Arthur to return to his normal self, to go romping with them, but Arthur was filled with hellish determination for some secret plan he shared with no one. And every time there came news from Mercia…

The tent flap opened, causing Kay to pull himself out of his dark thoughts, only for his eyes to widen as he saw his prince slipping inside his tent. Kay hurried to his feet and bowed his head, heart racing in surprise. “Prince Arthur! What are you doing here? Please tell me you were accompanied by someone! This camp is not safe for you to be moving around by yourself.” He thought back to the horrible scene in the tent, at the degradation Arthur was so clearly used to, and it made him sick to his stomach. “We are _surrounded_ by immoral—!”

“Sir Kay,” Arthur interrupted in what sounded like a bored tone. “I am relieved to see that you and the rest of Camelot are now free from my uncle. It will take a very long time to undo the damage he did, but I am sure that together we will be able to make Camelot even greater than it once was.”

“Of course, Prince Arthur!” Kay smiled as he raised his gaze to the younger, handsome blonde, a little disturbed he was wearing Mercian blue and not Camelot red, but that would be fixed soon enough.

“However.” There was no smile whatsoever on Arthur’s face as he peered around the inside of the tent before fixing his intense gaze on Kay. “I _will not_ have a repeat of what occurred earlier happen again. I understand that Camelot will have a teething period as they grow used to the changes that are coming, but I am going to be king, and I _will not_ abide anyone who believes they can make decisions for me. Have I made myself clear?”

Kay’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, not having expected this attack. Why was he being told off when he was the _only one_ in that tent who had been on Arthur’s side? Clearly everyone else was kissing the Butcher’s ass and hadn’t even blinked at the humiliation that Arthur had been suffering!

“It seems that I have not made myself clear,” Arthur mumbled to himself as a muscle jumped in his cheek in obvious annoyance. “Let me be absolutely blunt with you then, Sir Kay, and I want you to tell the other knights what I am about to tell you so that there is not one amongst them who does not understand what I am about to say.” His eyes narrowed. “I _love_ Merlin. He is not _forcing_ or _degrading_ me in any way, no matter if it might appear that way to you. You seem to be under some erroneous idea that I am a damsel in distress, and that Merlin is the evil dragon keeping me trapped in a tower waiting for the knights of Camelot to gallantly sweep in and save. That could not be farther from the truth.” He smirked, looking a little like the old Arthur, the one Kay missed a lot. “If there is _anyone_ keeping the other by nefarious means, _it is I_.” That smirk shifted into a scowl as those eyes darkened and narrowed on Kay. “And I _will not_ allow you or _anyone else_ to jeopardize all I have worked so hard to attain.”

While Kay did not belittle the fact that Arthur had clearly worked hard to attain the respect of the people ofMercia, he could not abide this. How was that respect worth the treatment that Arthur as being subjected to? “Prince Arthur, he let us see you in that vulnerable state!” Kay could not understand why Arthur was defending the monster, why he thought they needed Mercia to this degree. They did not! They could manage somehow. “He clearly ensorcelled you - used his monstrous magic - to make you act unlike yourself, to degrade and humiliate you into—-.”

“Your father was a good friend to my father and a faithful knight to Camelot,” Arthur declared, seemingly out of the blue. “You and I have known each other from childhood, and I know that what you are saying, and what you do, you do out of loyalty to Camelot and its heir.” His eyes narrowed. “But the next time you refer to _any_ aspect of my husband as _monstrous_ none of what I have stated before will save you from my retribution.”

Kay froze in horror. _Husband_? No. That—that was _impossible_. Men were not able to marry other men! That was, that was _ridiculous_! Clearly this was yet another invention of Mercia’s Butcher. _Clearly_ this was a way of controlling Camelot by not only keeping its ruler under his thumb, but leaving him unable to have an heir and thus assure that Camelot’s rulership remained with Mercia.

“Merlin might not appear human at the moment - and even if he never regains his former visage - that does not change what I feel for him. I bound myself to him, willingly, magically. He did not ensorcel me, _I_ chased and hounded _him_ , **I** pursued a magical bond being cemented between us. So, with this now in mind, you and the rest of the Court will have to get used to the idea of seeing Merlin by my side, and start treating him with the respect his position deserves, because a slight against him is a slight against me.” Arthur’s eyes, which had always been a unique shade of blue that had fascinated Kay from the time they had been young, were narrowed in a look he had seen Arthur give many times, and yet never towards _him_. “If there is anyone in Camelot who cannot accept this then I will allow them to leave and find homes in different kingdoms. But if my people choose to stay, they do so knowing that there will be drastic changes coming, chief of all my relationship with Merlin.” That expression fixed itself intently on Kay. “Have I made myself clear _this time_ , Sir Kay?”

There were so many things Kay wanted to say, to tell Arthur. Every instinct inside of him warned that Arthur was being very serious right now, and that made him furious because obviously that monster’s magic was ingrained in Arthur. Had the prince not just revealed that he’d been bound to the creature via said magic? Kay had seen what the beast’s magic could do, he’d seen the void, seen the terrifying creatures that had been conjured from within. Clearly the monster’s magic was near god-like, and he had been a fool for thinking it would be as easy as speaking to Arthur to break whatever spell had been cast on him.

Kay needed to push back his anger, his murderous intent, and play this smart. It was obvious that the black-eyed monster had sent Arthur here to lay down the law, that meant it obviously saw Kay as a threat. The knight needed to remove the suspicion and target on himself, because if he was going to free his prince he would have to do so under the dragon’s very own nose. He had to keep his true intentions hidden from the monster, so, at least for now, he would have to keep them from his prince as well. But once Arthur’s mind and body had been liberated, once he was no longer under the creature’s control, he would be grateful for all Kay had done for him.

No one else knew Arthur the way he did. No one else was as close to Arthur as he. That was why Kay had to do this, because Arthur _needed_ him, he needed Kay desperately. Kay had grown up making sure no one else tried to get too close to Arthur, to use him, to sully him, and now that this monster had gotten its hooks into Arthur, Kay would remove each hook, one by one, and free Arthur from its stranglehold. No matter how long it took, no matter _what_ it took. He would get Arthur back again.

That was why he trained his expression to feigned understanding as he bowed. “I apologize, Prince Arthur. I did not understand the situation. Please forgive me for any slight I have unintentionally made against your husband. I will ask forgiveness of him upon the morrow, and will make sure that your words, and the weight behind them, arepassed along to the others.”

Arthur stared at him in silence, clearly observing him in judgment, before he nodded. “Good. I am relieved to hear this and know that I can count on you.”

“Of course you can, Prince Arthur,” Kay assured him truthfully. “You can always count on me.”

With another nod, Arthur turned to leave.

Kay rushed forwards. “Allow me to escort you back to your tent. It is not safe for you to be alone in this camp—.”

“I am not alone.” Arthur opened the flap to reveal that redheaded female was there awaiting him impatiently. “Good night, Sir Kay.” And with that he slipped out of the tent and disappeared.

Just who _was_ that redhead who suddenly thought she was Arthur’s protector? She was getting in the way. First she hadn’t wanted to allow Kay into the tent, and now this? It was _Kay’s_ place to be at Arthur’s side! Not hers! Not that monster’s! _Clearly_ she must be one of that beast’s servants meant to keep Arthur in sight at all times and make sure that no one could approach him, could try to save him, before she could report back to her master.

The flap fluttered once more, and Kay looked up in excited hope, only to be disappointed whenhe realized that Arthur hadn’t returned, instead someone else had come to his tent in the dead of the night.

“Why do I feel worried that your agreement was too quickly given?” Elyan wanted to know with a raised eyebrow, his words betraying that he had listened in on Arthur and Kay’s conversation.“Forgive me if I am wrong, but I doubt your sincerity.”

“How could you have allowed something like this to happen to our prince?” Kay could understand something like this happening under Leon’s watch, but not Elyan’s. He’d thought better of Elyan, and he was honestly a mixture of pissed and disappointed with his fellow knight. “You and the others were supposed to _protect_ him! So _how_ could you have allowed him to magically _bind_ himself to that monster?”

“Honestly, Kay,” Elyan snickered darkly with a shake of his head. “When exactly have we _ever_ been able to _make_ Prince Arthur _do_ anything? Or _stop him_ from doing something, for that matter?” He tilted his head to the side and observed Kay in that way that always made him incredibly uneasy. “Merlin might not be human, not entirely, but clearly Prince Arthur not only already knew about it but _accepts_ it.”

“He doesn’t _accept_ it, _no one_ could accept that monster,” Kay hissed, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Can you not see that Prince Arthur has been ensorcelled? We knew something had happened to him after he’d returned from Mercia the first time, we knew that—but even _then_ he was not what he is like now. I—.” He ran his fingers through his hair as a memory of what had happened in the tent flashed before him. “ _That_ was _clearly_ Prince Arthur under some sort of spell.”

“Do you know what is clear _to me_?” Elyan wanted to know with a raised eyebrow. “Amata and Powys want Merlin as their king, and if Mercia’s behavior is anything to go by, he will no doubt be asked to govern them as well. Prince Arthur is married to Merlin, so that would make him not only Camelot’s king, but Consort to the king of three very powerful kingdoms as well. Their union is beneficial to Camelot.”

“You would sell your prince for commerce?” Kay snarled viciously. “We are the knights of _Camelot_ , Elyan. Our only duty is to Camelot and its king. It is our sworn oath to uphold the Pendragon name, its legacy, and to protect the king.”

A sigh of disgust escaped Elyan’s lips. “How did his visit not knock some sense into you, Kay? He looked you straight in the eyes and told you not to meddle with his relationship with Merlin or he would make you regret it.”

“That wasn’t Arthur, I _know_ Arthur, our fathers were friends, I grew up knowing him, and ever since he came back from Mercia he has _not_ been the person I know,” Kay informed him angrily, unable to believe that Elyan and the others who had sought refuge in Mercia could not see what was so obvious to him. “That monster did something to him, has him under some sort of spell. It is our duty to—.”

“To obey our king,” Elyan interrupted as he shook his head.

“You did not see what I did!” Kay snapped at him, quickly losing his cool. “That demon had him naked in the tub with him, was flaunting how low he’d brought him! And then he used his magic to force Prince Arthur to say and do things - to act in a way - that he would _never_ have otherwise!”

“Sir Kay,” Elyan said softly, “take this time to truly observe Prince Arthur and Merlin together. If you are not purposely blinding yourself, you will understand that what you are saying right now is far from the truth.” He turned his back on Kay. “Get used to the new regime and how things will be from hereon out, you will find life very dangerous for you if you refuse to accept how things are now and how they will be.”

And with that he left.

Kay shook his head in disbelief. How could Elyan be so blind? How could the rest of the soldiers of Camelot be blind as well to what was so obvious? Had Mercia  truly ensorcelled _them all_?

Maybe… maybe it _had_.

And that would make sense.

That also meant that those who had been in Mercia could not be trusted, not until the spell was broken and they were returned to the men they had once been. It might take some time, Kay did not understand magic, but he would find someone who could explain it to him, who could help him save not only Prince Arthur, but the rest of Camelot.

For now, though, Kay had to back down and pretend that he was as blind as everyone else. He had to let all suspicion shift away from him, die, for his plan to work. He also had to allow Arthur to remain 'married' that monster. He hated it - _hated it so much_ \- but Elyan had been right when he’d spoken about the joining of the kingdoms being good for Camelot.

While he searched for a cure, Kay would have to allow Arthur to be married that inhuman creature so that they could join kingdoms, so that Camelot could reap the benefits, and then when the Monster of Mercia was vulnerable in his self-assurance, once he let down his guard, Kay would slay the beast. Not only would Kay have saved Prince Arthur and set him free, but he would have given him a much larger kingdom to rule.

Free from the curse clearly on him Prince Arthur would return to the boy Kay had known growing up, the one that Kay had always… looked up to… idolized… worshipped.

With Merlin of Mercia dead and gone, Kay would get back _his_ Arthur once more, and all would be right in the world.

Strengthening his resolve, Kay stared blankly ahead with a crooked smile.

Of course it would take a knight to slay a dragon.


End file.
